The Benefits of Amnesia
by Bullwinkle's Lady
Summary: After developing amnesia in Konoha, Hinata is sent back to Suna, unaware of her life there, or that she's married to the Kazekage. GaaraHina, some SasuHina, slight KabuHina and NaruHina.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **After developing amnesia in Konoha, Hinata is sent back to Suna, unaware of her life there, or that she's married to the Kazekage. Gaara/Hinata.

**Author's Note: **This is a multi-chapter spin-off of my one-shot "Amnesia."

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 1**

She awoke to find someone roughly shaking her. Her head ached and her vision was blurred. When finally it focused, she met blue eyes and slowly smiled.

"Hinata, are you all right?" said Naruto.

But he looked...different.

No longer was he dressed in blue and orange, but wore an ANBU uniform, his cat mask hanging from his belt. And Naruto was taller...older, his calloused hands on her shoulders, his adorable half-frown - even his ice blue eyes had changed, and were solemn; penetrating. Uzumaki Naruto was more mature, and his body had aged at least ten years.

The heiress was assaulted by a wave of dizziness. She held her head and closed her eyes, not seeing the mischievous smirk crawl across Naruto's lips.

"Goodness Hinata, you were screaming Gaara, _Gaara!_ I think I know what's on your mind." He chuckled darkly.

Hinata's eyes snapped open. Paling, she stared at him in shock and confusion.

Someone snorted beside them. "_Don't lie to her," _the person said. "She was screaming 'Gaara's trying to kill us!'"

Hinata gasped when Naruto was shoved aside. Taking his place was the grave-faced Naara Shikamaru, all tall and lanky, with a bristled chin and furrowed brows. "Hinata, what's the last thing you remember?"

Feeling uneasy, the Hyuuga took a gulp of air. "W-we were in the f-forest of death," she said, her voice croaking as though she hadn't used it in days. "G-Gaara was t-trying to kill us!"

Naruto burst into laughter. Was the prospect of her being crushed to death with sand really that amusing to him? The kunoichi shrunk in her sheets, wanting to cry.

Shikamaru heaved an annoyed sigh and grabbed Naruto's elbow. "We'll be right back," he said, giving her a curt nod and dragging Naruto out of the room.

Hinata opened her mouth to protest but they had already disappeared, the door swinging closed behind them. Taking deep breaths in an attempt to control her anxiety, she looked around. She could tell she was in the hospital, more so by smelling than by seeing. She had never liked hospitals. The sterile environment was sickening to her.

What had happened?

She climbed out of the bed, her legs numb, her body feeling awkward and unfamiliar to her. Beneath the window was a backpack, probably _her _backpack. Maybe she had gotten hurt in the forest of death. Kneeling beside it, she zipped it open and rummaged through the contents. An odd uniform...rather like the one Naruto was wearing. And a rat mask. It was ANBU, meaning it couldn't possibly be hers. Maybe someone else had forgotten it there. The heiress stared at the Suna forehead protector that accompanied the uniform. Something about it just...drew her concentration. What was she missing...what had she forgotten?

Hinata distractedly brushed something away from her shoulders only to feel it return seconds later. She looked down at herself to find the irritating sensation on her neck to be hair. _Her _hair: long, dark, and glossy. Eyes wide, she followed the tresses to the small of her back, and quickly attempted to detach them. Why wouldn't they come off? _Her_ hair was short. _This _hair couldn't be real. Why wouldn't it come off? Hinata cried out in pain as she tugged again, when the door suddenly opened.

She guiltily looked up, one hand quickly shoving the backpack aside, the other still holding a chunk of her hair. Haruno Sakura stood in the doorframe. It seemed that she had cut her own hair...and like Naruto and Shikamaru, she too was taller, _older. _It was all so strange. Sakura put her hands on her hips. "Hinata, stop pulling your hair!"

Containing a whimper, the heiress obeyed.

Sakura approached, kneeling beside her. "C'mon, let's get you back to bed."

But she didn't need rest, she was fine! - well, aside from her pounding headache, the one that made her vision blur.

Her legs were long...much longer than she remembered. Her whole body was different...she didn't know why, it just was!

"Shikamaru tells me the last thing your remember is your first chunnin exam," Sakura said as Hinata clumsily climbed back into the bed.

What did she mean by _first_? Hinata attempted to tell the girl what had happened in the forest, and managed, hoarsely, "G-Gaara-"

"And Gaara seems to be the focus of your memories," Sakura interrupted. "That's a very good sign."

What was she talking about? Hinata stared up at the pink-haired girl, feeling herself tremble.

Sakura patted her shoulder. "Hinata, you're twenty-five. We think you have amnesia."

Twenty-five? How could she possibly be twenty-five? That wasn't logical! She was only twelve!

...Amnesia?

_Amnesia!_

No, no, no, not possible. She _knew _she was twelve! It was _all _she knew! She couldn't be twenty-five!

"You're living in Suna now. But you were knocked unconscious during your last mission, and you were closer to Konoha than you were to Suna, so the ninja who found you brought you here. We have to get you back as soon as possible-"

"I'm not twenty-five," Hinata cut her off, disagreeing. "I-I'm twelve! I want to go home!"

* * *

"Send her home," Hiashi consented.

Hinata gaped at him. Gathered in one of her father's meeting rooms was Hinata, Hiashi, Sakura, and a blonde woman she didn't recognize. Sitting on her heels on the wooden floor, the woman calmly sipped from her teacup as the heiress fought to breathe.

Hinata pressed her hands to the floor, bowing her head and feeling exhausted. "Th-this is my home. This is my c-clan-!" she insisted, though she didn't meet her father's eyes. Her voice was laced with desperation and raised unbidden by her.

Hyuuga Hiashi seemed unfazed. "This is Hanabi's clan," he corrected her, watching his eldest daughter pale.

Raising her head, Hinata bit her bottom lip. What did that mean? That her sister...that Hanabi had inherited the clan in her place? That Hanabi was the Hyuuga head?

Sakura touched her shoulder in an effort to reassure her. "You left before you could inherit the clan, Hinata. You got m-"

"Say nothing that can alarm her," Hiashi interjected. "I am _not_ a therapist, and even I cannot comprehend the way things turned out."

Hinata stared. What did they mean? What weren't they telling her?

Sakura nodded, and turned back to the other kunoichi. "As I was saying before, Hinata, you were found unconscious in the woods by ninja of Kumogakure. The person you were on mission to assassinate was dead not far from you. You had a severe head injury that had put you in a coma, but the shinobi who spotted you recognized your status in Suna, and then your eyes, which connected you to Konoha. They knew the penalties of harming you, and brought you here. You've been out for about a week. We were on the verge of sending word to Suna, but - thankfully - you awoke, and we no longer have to tell them that one of their ANBU is in a coma. We wouldn't want to...ah...strain our alliance any more than it already is, especially considering the circumstances with which you left Konoha."

Consumed by dizziness, Hinata tried to absorb the information. "What circumstances?" she asked.

"You ran away," Hiashi said. He turned to the blonde woman. "So Suna doesn't know she's here?"

The woman nodded, taking another sip of tea.

"She's been avoiding the branch house seal for so long..." Hiashi mused, glancing at his daughter's forehead.

Hinata's breath hitched in her chest.

"Marking her would insinuate we captured her," the blonde woman finally spoke, her eyes snapping up. "Are you suggesting we trigger a war with Suna?"

Hiashi glanced away, and Hinata remained frozen. War? Over her? _Were they kidding?_

The blonde woman continued to speak. She was strangely familiar. She had an authoritative voice, and a purple diamond upon her forehead. "If we continue to pretend Hinata is still on mission, then it has been excessively long. The Kazekage would have expected correspondence from her by now." She snatched a pen and a sheet from the pile of papers beside them. Hinata stiffened as the utensils were shoved beneath her nose. "Write," Tsunade instructed.

Blinking, Hinata took the paper. "W-who are you?"

"I'm the Hokage."

Her white eyes widened. The third - he had already appointed a successor-?

"_Write," _repeated the woman.

"H-hai," Hinata said. So many things were happening at once. She was too disoriented to try to make sense of everything she was being told.

They said she had run away...but why would she run away from Konoha? Though her relationship with her family was tense at times - she'd never leave her home, her friends - _she just wouldn't!_

"Dear Ga-" a pause. "**Dear Kazekage-sama**," said Tsunade.

Hinata obediently wrote, though she had no a clue who the Kazekage was, or how the report should have been toned or formatted. It seemed Tsunade had it covered.

"**I have successfully completed my mission. The body was disposed of as per ANBU's policy. Expect me back in three days.**"

Three days? The travel to Suna was three days long. Were they really sending her back, and so soon? Blinking back the tears in her eyes, Hinata struggled to keep up with the Hokage's words.

"**Love**," stated Tsunade.

Hinata froze. "W-what?"

"Write **Love**."

"W-wouldn't **Sincerely** be m-more appropriate?"

Tsunade wryly smiled. "Are you disobeying a direct order?"

Quickly forgetting that she was allied not to the Hokage but the Kazekage, Hinata wrote the word **Love** knowing that it was completely out of line when addressing an authority figure. She was far too weak to argue with the woman.

"**Hinata**," finished Tsunade.

"**Hyuuga Hinata**?"

"_Just _**Hinata**."

The heiress signed her first name at the bottom of the letter, feeling sick as Tsunade snatched it away from her. The woman rose, walked to the window, and tied it to the leg of a pigeon waiting outside. In a matter of seconds the bird had flown off along with every last bit of her dignity.

"Sakura, get her ready for travel," Tsunade said, and Hinata felt herself begin to shake again. "Shikamaru will escort her back to Suna. I expect her to be gone within the hour." Glancing over her shoulder, Tsunade flashed the Hyuuga a kind smile, one that utterly contradicted her cruel demands. With that, the woman left the room, and Hinata wished she had never woken up.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 2**

She hadn't noticed the ring before – not _really_. It had felt too comfortable – looked too _natural _– to actually catch her attention for more than a few seconds. She'd glanced at it several times, had thoughtfully run her finger over it, but had never given it a second thought.

The band was small; subtle, even. White golden, perhaps to match her eyes. It wrapped around her right index finger, and she had never once thought to remove it. Hinata watched it gleam beneath the sunlight and wondered what it meant.

"Keep moving, _princess."_

She was brought back to reality by Temari's blatant hostility.

_Princess, _Hinata reflected, feeling dizzy. What a bizarre nickname for her.

From ahead, Shikamaru threw her an apologetic glance, but it slowly transformed into a cheeky sort of sneer as his eyes returned to the smirking blonde girl beside him.

"We don't have all day," Temari continued, seeming amused by the Hyuuga's dilemma.

Feeling irrationally panicked, Hinata quickened her pace, but tried her best to keep a few feet behind her unkindly escorts.

Shikamaru and Temari were different than she recalled, but it was silly to expect anything but surprises from her thirteen-year-aged peers and her thirteen-year-changed surroundings. She hadn't known the duo well to begin with, just that they had always been noticeably closer to each other than they were to anyone else. Whereas Temari shared silent exchanges with her solemn brothers, she was vocal with the Nara, and Shikamaru humored her, as he wouldn't anyone else. Despite how troublesome the chore and his distaste for her gender, he seemed to almost..._like _her.

As a set – whole, balanced, and shockingly in synch with each other's thoughts – Shikamaru and Temari were...comforting. A simple medium, a _constant,_ offering order to her chaos, and maybe even some stability in Suna. It seemed not _everything _had changed.

She wasn't alone.

She watched Shikamaru offer another of those false looks of reassurance. He found her troublesome like everything else that wasn't Temari. "Ignore her," he said.

Things had been going like this for the last three days. In the evenings the two disappeared into the woods, and she was left to make a small camp for herself alone.

It had been...bizarre...to go through her backpack and all the clothes Sakura had packed for her. The most strange of these was the ANBU uniform. _She, _Hyuuga _Hinata, _a member of Suna's – _ANBU?_

She had...never expected...

A flicker of a smile crossed her face.

Then there were some other clothes. Things she never expected would fit her. Things that were disproportioned – downright_ inappropriate_.

Then she'd look down at herself and remember she wasn't a twelve-year-old girl anymore.

She had a figure, and..._curves, _and...and, all sorts of things!

Hinata blushed as she continued to amble behind her traveling companions. She was dressed in a black t-shirt and slacks, because she hadn't had the nerve to put on anything else.

Like any other hidden village, Suna was concealed by its namesake. And it was a terrible day. The breeze wasn't a relief, but a hindrance. As they grew nearer to the village, they had to wrap scarves around their faces so not to choke on sand.

The desert was hot, barren, _ugly._ What would compel her to leave the lush beauty of Konoha? Why couldn't she just backtrack? Start over from where she'd left off at twelve?

She'd seemed to have made some strange decisions in those missing thirteen years.

Hinata looked up, her eyes narrowed against the sun and sand. The trio had come upon a tiered rock mountain with a divide through the middle, creating a single pathway into the village. The guards lining the tiers did nothing as she and the others passed through. They must have recognized Temari.

When they reached the opposite side of the artificial formation, the wind died down. Hinata released a sigh of relief and pulled off her scarf. She looked up at the Village of Sand, feeling herself become increasingly discouraged.

The buildings were dome-like structures, each the color of the terrain, with small circular windows, blackened beneath the unrelenting sun. While Konoha's designing was bright and conflicting, Suna's colors were dull and repressed.

Shikamaru and Temari began to hike toward the Kage's stronghold, a massive tower far larger than the one in Konoha. Hinata followed them, not knowing what to expect. Was she to recite a false mission report? Or just explain her condition? She doubted she would receive any sympathy. The Third Hokage had been famously kindly, and she was dubious that this trend had carried to other villages. The prospect of meeting with the foreign leader of Sand was nerve racking. Did she even know this person? If so, then how well? The fact that she'd just written a letter to this person – a letter signed _love, _only exacerbated her dilemma. Hinata hugged herself despite the heat.

As she followed Shikamaru and Temari through the village, she was surprised to see that many were watching them. Some people paused midway though conversations just to observe them. Some even caught her eye before Hinata could nervously look away. Others hid their mouths with their hands and whispered to their neighbors. It was incredibly strange. Hinata looked at Shikamaru and Temari, but they didn't even seem to notice. Was this normal to them? Hinata bit the inside of her cheek, wondering why they were drawing so much attention.

They reached the foot of the tower and entered a large area where several ninja were moving about. Hinata trailed her escorts toward a spiraling staircase, and they began an endless ascend. There were several landings, several rooms, and several lounge areas, but the three continued toward the top.

When they finally had reached one of the highest floors, Hinata was lead toward two broad oak doors that were sure to lead to the Kazekage's office. Taking a deep gulp of air, Hinata followed Shikamaru and Temari inside-

-and nearly screamed upon spotting their company.

"Oh, did we forget to mention?" Temari said.

Hinata felt Shikamaru take her elbow as though he expected she'd try to run.

He didn't have to worry about that.

She stood in frozen shock. Each of her muscles had braced of their own accord, leaving her body tense and shaking. She felt only fear when she met those green blue eyes.

Behind the Kazekage's desk was Sabaku no Gaara. He looked up at them, immediately distracted from what he had been writing.

_He _was the Kazekage? _**Gaara**__ – the Kazekage!_

Blood red hair hung in his eyes, the black rings around them a tribute to his demon. Those narrowed eyes were simultaneously horrifying and fascinating. Gaara was older like everyone else. He was dressed in the colors of ash and rust. He rested his face on his knuckles and took to peering at them.

Her fear of him shouldn't have been so intense. Her memories of his cruelty shouldn't have been so vivid. They buried her in apprehension leaving her near incapacitated. All she wanted at that moment was to be as far away from him as possible.

Gaara's next actions didn't properly correspond with her terror. He stared, looking confused by her skittishness. "Are you ill?" he questioned, still eying her.

For thirty seconds, the room hung in complete silence.

Her fright finally prompted a response – or maybe it was just the way Temari jabbed her in the ribs. "N-no."

Gaara narrowed his eyes. "Why are you stuttering?"

"I-I-I-"

"What took you so long?" he interrupted, becoming impatient.

Hinata stumbled for words, "I t-took a f-few s-st-stops."

"_I needed you here." _Gaara began to rise.

Hinata tried to back away, but Shikamaru's hold on her tightened. She was trapped there, flanked by Shikamaru and Temari.

Gaara walked out from behind the desk and approached, never once releasing her from his cold stare. When finally he was just a foot away from where she stood, Hinata suspected she would faint. She clenched her jaw, desperate not to.

He was taller, she realized, as she stared at his pale face; his thoughtfully parted lips. He was handsome, and it was all so strange.

Gaara noticed her distress, and his eyes strangely softened. Curiosity now bled into his stare...and something else? She couldn't discern it...

"Shikamaru. Temari. Excuse us," said Gaara.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

"I'd rather not," mentioned the Nara.

Gaara's eyes finally broke from hers, and lashed dangerously up at Shikamaru's. Hinata began to sink, feeling grateful he was distracted.

But Shikamaru was strong, and effortlessly held her up. "I need to speak to you," he said. He accepted Gaara's glare without any distress at all. "It's important," he deadpanned, staring the redhead straight in the eye.

Temari was being peacefully unhelpful. She observed the exchanges with the wicked smile of a spectator.

Gaara nodded. Throwing her one last glance, he brushed passed her and walked out of the room. Shikamaru and Temari followed.

Hinata stared after them, her legs feeling numb and wobbly. When the door had closed behind them, she looked around the office and spotted a green couch against a wall near the desk.

She made her way over to it and sat down. The fact that Gaara had left the office perplexed her. Wouldn't any other man have just excused her?

There were a few desert plants sitting about the room, but she found no personal components. There was nothing to suggest a connection to Suna, or to the world for that matter.

Hinata bowed her head. Though the room was warm like any other, she felt cold and shaky. Why was Gaara getting to her this way?

The door swung open, and the man in question re-entered the room, but there was no sign of Shikamaru or Temari. Hinata blanched.

But Gaara's expression had changed. What had seemed like enmity was now enigmatic. "They informed me of the situation," he said. "You're going to see the doctor."

* * *

Since she had encountered him, he had treated her with so much familiarity, it unnerved her.

And now he was dragging her off to see a doctor!

The cardinal point – _he was holding her hand!_

Was it ordinary for the Kazekage to abruptly drop everything to attend to one of his subjects? It didn't seem logical. She wanted to cry.

And with her hand clasped in his-

...It didn't _seem _like anything unusual. It felt disturbingly natural.

She was too terrified to pull free.

He dragged her through the tower, passing shinobi all about, ever watching, some even waving at them. They went up stairs, down stairs, through strange passages, and a maze of corridors. When finally she felt she was sufficiently lost, they entered a large room with a white marble floor.

The atmosphere quickly reminded her of a hospital. There was an examination table, and a complicated-looking computer console. Various articles of medical equipment lined the walls. There were some things like scalpels and syringes lying innocently around.

From behind this table, a gray-haired man looked up. He held a cup of tea to his lips, but lowered it upon spotting them. "Kazekage-sama?"

The man looked familiar...perhaps someone she once knew? What was his name? Hinata looked back at Gaara.

"Kabuto."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 3**

"Hinata was concussed several days ago. She's still hazy. I want you to give her an exam."

Hinata's eyes widened. She was astounded that Gaara would accompany her to a physical examination. Was she somehow – of importance in Suna? Was this about her roots in Konoha? She wanted to tell him that the Hokage knew everything if just to make him leave her alone!

That man – Kabuto – looked at her, his eyes filling with...concern? Thankfully, he didn't instruct her to remove any articles of clothing, but motioned for her to take a seat in a chair beside the examination table.

Hinata would have complied had she not noticed that Gaara was still holding her hand.

Her face drained of color.

Gaara also seemed to notice her dilemma, but didn't release her. He instead watched her closely, as if daring her to pull away. When finally her face was duly stark, and she was sure she would vomit, or just die, the Kage released her. She practically staggered to the chair.

Not seeming to catch the bizarre exchange, Kabuto rummaged through a small filing cabinet near the door. He pulled out a manila folder and quickly browsed through it. "Have you smoked recently?"

Hinata opened her mouth to respond-

"No," said Gaara tersely.

"Ever?"

"No."

"Any alcohol as of late?"

"No."

"Sex?"

"_No."_

Hinata's face caught fire. What was with this all these – these questions? And why was Gaara answering them? How could he possibly know her personal information!

Kabuto finally lowered the folder. He briefly adjusted his glasses before turning to face her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning down so they were eye to eye. Though his hair was gray, he looked as though he was in his late twenties. Where did she know him from? "How do you feel?" Kabuto asked.

_Nauseous._

But the man was examining her eyes. He pulled out a small flashlight, shining light on her pale pupils and watching them dilate.

"The Nara thinks she has amnesia," muttered Gaara. He had crossed his arms and taken refuge against a wall. He seemed to have become rather...peevish. She felt she'd done something wrong.

"Is that so?" said Kabuto, feeling the knot on the back of her head. She winced.

She felt his chakra slowly encompass her skull. So he was a medical ninja. It seeped into the injury, soothing it, but did not penetrate further.

She'd never had a man touch her hair before it. She felt increasingly uncomfortable.

"Tell me your name," said Kabuto.

"Hinata."

"How old are you?"

"T-twenty-five." _I think._

"Who am I?"

"I-I don't know!" She began to grow anxious.

"Who's your lover?"

"L-L-L-!"

Kabuto's lips twitched. Was he just...making fun of her? He was amused, just like Temari. Hinata deeply breathed, feeling uncomfortably warm.

"Kabuto..." said Gaara warningly.

Smiling mischievously at her, Kabuto pulled his hand away from her head. Hinata felt strands of long hair fall back against her neck. It would take a while to get used to it.

"I'm afraid Shikamaru's right," said Kabuto, straightening and turning to face Gaara. "When was her last brain scan?"

"Seven months ago, after a mission in Kumo," responded Gaara.

Hinata continued to blink. How did Gaara know all this off the top of his head?

"Good," said Kabuto. "We can compare and contrast. She's suffering significant brain swelling. And the brain is the most complex of our parts. I wouldn't dare touch it. I won't be able to see the extent of the...damage, until the swelling goes down."

Gaara remained unmoving.

"-Assuming there even _is_ damage," the gray-haired man continued optimistically. "For all we know, the amnesia could be temporary. Have Hinata come back in a day or two and I'll do a CAT scan."

He seemed awfully sympathetic toward _Gaara_ for some reason.

What was going on!

Gaara's expression had become impassive. A touch of anger. A touch of disgust. She missed enigmatic, which left due mystery. _This_ – this rumbling frustration was nearly...hostile. Gaara turned and left the room. She slowly followed if just because she didn't know what else to do.

She rather wanted to stay with the medic...Kabuto. With his company came an air of tranquility. His congeniality was attractive in a world of confusion.

The door swung closed behind her, and she was suddenly in the corridor, again alone with Gaara.

The Kage was leaning on a wall, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. His teeth were grit, and his aura had become lethal.

But...her fear was waning. From the short while she had spent with him, she felt that she knew him significantly better than she had before. Maybe she knew him better than _she knew. _Why was he so bothered by her condition?

She was too nervous to voice her confusion. Too muddled to piece together the growing puzzle, let alone to confront him.

"Wh-where d-do I l-live?"

She managed that, at least. The urge to be alone – to close her eyes and mentally regroup – outweighed those erratic highs and lows of panic.

Gaara reacted slightly, but didn't look at her. "Right here in the tower," he said dryly. He sighed as though she had missed something.

Hinata swallowed. She lived at the Kazekage's stronghold? Was that normal? Maybe because she was a commissioner of Konoha? _No_...she was a Konoha _runaway. _Then did many shinobi live in the tower? Or maybe just members of ANBU? _...she still couldn't believe she was in ANBU. _Hinata snapped out of her momentary dazzle when she noticed that Gaara had taken to watching her.

"C-can you take me to my r-room?" she squeaked.

Following another moment of blank staring, Gaara nodded. "Aa."

The fact that she lived in the Kazekage tower posed a pile of new questions, but at least she was making progress.

She followed Gaara down the corridor, always staying two steps behind him. People continued to watch, _to spectate. _Did all these people know who she was?

Gaara led her into a turning stairwell that was significantly more private than the others. It was also a lot darker. They descended a flight, and then another. She couldn't help staring at Gaara's back. It wasn't very muscled...but thin. Then again, what would he need with physical assertion? She stared at the gourde tied to his shoulder.

She admitted, that at twenty-five, Gaara was significantly less terrifying than he'd been at twelve. No longer was his presence laced with killer intent, but apathy...melancholy?

It didn't change her trepidation. Didn't change the way her legs trembled beneath her.

Gaara lead her deeper through the tower and toward the earth. Once again, she acknowledged how very alone they were.

Alas, they reached a landing, and a thick metal door that Gaara had to unlock. Was this a room or a dungeon? Feel trapped, she followed Gaara through it, desperate tears welling in her eyes.

The redhead had taken to eying her again.

And Hinata was momentarily blinded by the brightness. It was as though she had walked into a different building.

They entered what appeared to be a large public area with impeccable white floors. There were intricate chairs and glass tables against some of the walls, only in a decorative sense. She spotted more desert plants, as well as elaborate flowers set in crystal vases.

Gaara continued walking, ignoring her look of amazement. She hurried to keep up with him.

"The third floor is wholly residential," he spoke monotonously, like an annoyed tour guide. "Straight ahead are the bedrooms."

He lead her toward the wing in question when she spotted Shikamaru sans the jounin vest he had been wearing.

The Nara was stifling a yawn. He began to walk alongside them. "How is she?"

Why was he talking to Gaara as though she wasn't right there beside him? They were treating her like a child.

...which she...ironically...was?

"The same," said the Kage.

"You seem bitter," Shikamaru remarked.

"I am," Gaara said, and continued walking.

Hinata stopped, momentarily stunned.

She looked back at Shikamaru who had stopped at a door along the corridor. She helplessly watched him pull out a key and disappear through it. He too looked grave.

Was amnesia really so horrible? What was she missing? _What was she missing?_

She caught up to Gaara. "W-why do I l-live here?" she couldn't help asking, still staring at his tense shoulders. There was a short silence.

"Because you work here," Gaara said patiently.

She worked at the Kazekage tower? She wanted to know more, but she hadn't the nerve to ask, and suspected that Gaara hadn't the patience.

The two moved toward a short hall where bits of color bled into the atmosphere. There was but one door, at the end of this hall. It was the color of rust, just like Gaara's cape. There were a few pairs of sandals thrown carelessly outside of it – a feminine pair, rather like the ones she was wearing. And there were massive pots of sand along the walls, from them growing the most unique purple flowers she'd ever seen.

Hinata was briefly startled when Gaara abruptly turned the corner, and down a long generic-looking corridor of beige upon beige. She parted her lips but produced no words.

They moved passed several identical doors, until Gaara paused at one, seemingly at random. "This is your room."

She looked at him, feeling slightly skeptical for some reason. Ignoring her, Gaara opened the door and she peeked inside.

"...W-where are m-my things?"

Maybe it was an unusual question. There was a beige bed, a wooden wardrobe, a nightstand, a bureau, and a window overlooking the front of the building.

...but there was nothing personal. Nothing unique to her. Not even the photo of her genin team she would never _ever _abandon. It was practically a guestroom.

Gaara crossed his arms. "These are your things."

She stood there, feeling speechless and paranoid. She felt as though he was taking advantage of her condition – and not even being very discreet about it. She opened her mouth to protest-

...but who was she to challenge the Kazekage?

"O-okay," she said.

Gaara reached into his cape and withdrew something that briefly held her focus. One of those rare purple flowers. Idly, he touched a petal, as though to pluck it. "Your favorite?"

She looked back up at him, stunned. "I-I don't know."

"It's your favorite," Gaara assured her, entering the room and walking to the bureau. He placed the flower in a vase there then looked back at her. He looked more relaxed than before.

Hinata stood frozen in uncertainty. She watched Gaara turn away from the flower and approach her. She watched him pause and reach toward her face as though to – _to touch her!_

She had never been more terrified in her life.

Gaara seemed to notice. He retracted, crossed his arms, and sauntered off.

It was the weirdest thing she had ever seen. Feeling her heart pound in her throat, Hinata stood there for moments, vaguely wondering if she'd peed her pants. When finally her catatonic state had simmered down to rigor, she moved slowly toward the bed and climbed under the sheets on all fours. She hugged her pillow, sunk, and proceeded to hyperventilate.

She didn't get much sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning she felt incredibly dizzy, but significantly...better...than she had the previous night.

_She wished it had all been a dream._

But the room she lay in was rustic. All light colors rather than Konoha's overwhelming ones. She was in Suna.

She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to do anything. Her eyes darted about the room, then lingered on the flower.

There was a knock on the door.

Hinata abruptly sat up as though she'd been caught doing something wrong. She scrambled clumsily out of bed, not acknowledging the disheveled mess she was in.

Gaara.

It wasn't as though she was _indecent. _She was wearing the same thing she'd been wearing the previous day.

...just without the pants.

She'd sleepily worked her way out of them some time during the night. The shirt was longish. Loose. It covered her panties.

But this really wasn't any consolation.

Gaara entered the room without invitation. She took a step back, feeling naked.

"Breakfast," he deadpanned.

Hinata blanched. "I-I'm n-n-not h-hungry," she managed, desperate to get away from him.

"That wasn't a question," Gaara retorted, seeming a little amused by her panic. "You have five minutes."

Hinata swallowed and waited for Gaara to leave. When he didn't move, she nervously wondered what he was waiting for. He had taken to watching her with the same level of curiosity. When finally one of her allotted minutes had expired, Gaara blinked. "I'll give you some privacy," he mentioned strangely, before exiting the room and glancing away.

Shuddering, Hinata closed the door. It was almost as though he had expected her to change her clothes right in front of him.

She turned to the wardrobe and rifled through it. There were various outfits, masculine and feminine, but none that actually suited her. They looked like general outfits, for a guest or family member staying the night. Most of them were too big or too small.

_She knew this wasn't her bedroom!_

She hastily put together some odds and ends, producing an outfit, if only by chance. Only after confronting the mirror did she rethink this decision.

There was a rapping on the door.

She wore a kimono, but not a traditional one. Then again, this was Suna, and the clothing was usually particular to the heat.

The kimono was thinner, with less layers than the ones she was accustomed to in Konoha. It was loose and left her with a lot of flexibility, especially considering the fact that it was barely knee length.

But the sleeves were decoratively long and went to her shins. The cloth was dark blue and the obi around her waist, white. The front dipped into her...cleavage.

_-she had cleavage!_

She was still unaccustomed to her new physique. She wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to change – but now the doorknob was rattling.

She couldn't find her sandals, but was terrorized by the prospect of Gaara breaking down her door flanked with sand clouds. She scurried over to it and flung it open.

Suddenly she was face to face with the Kazekage.

"Ready?"

"...un."

She watched him briefly glance her over, feeling blood pool in her face. He then turned away. "C'mon," he mentioned blandly.

Still barefoot, Hinata numbly followed him from the wing that contained all the bedrooms, and into the elegantly decorated public area. A left turn brought them into a massive dining room with a long oak table that could have probably seated over a dozen. She stared in wonder.

But Gaara kept walking, through this room, and into a considerably smaller one just off it. It was a kitchen, with a round table that could seat about six. This area was significantly more intimate, even _cozy_. Gaara immediately attending to the coffeemaker on the counter as Hinata blinked, perplexed.

It was small. It was _personal_. It was where Gaara _made his morning coffee. _It didn't make sense that she would belong.

Her eyes curiously scanned the room before making contact with a childrens' highchair on the opposite side of the table. This was perhaps even _more _out of place than _she _was. She glanced at Gaara who was filling himself a mug of his foul beverage, but nearly jumped upon hearing the sound of a baby crying.

Taken by curiosity, she spun around.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 4**

Temari entered the room, an infant propped on her hip, and was followed by Shikamaru who was hastily fastening his jounin vest. His hair wasn't in a band but hung on his shoulders.

Hinata could only gape at the baby girl with blonde hair and dark eyes. She was in diapers, and unbearably cute. A year or so old, tears poured down her cheeks as she clutched Temari's uniform.

Hinata pulled out a chair and dropped to a seat as Gaara took the spot beside her. She didn't notice that he was closer to her than the others. He began to sip his coffee.

Hinata watched as Temari lowered the crying child to the highchair.

"You have a b-b-baby?"

Gaara watched his wife's eyes sparkle with envy.

"_We _have a child," Shikamaru corrected her, taking a seat beside Temari. From his shuriken pouch he unearthed a small jar of baby food and began to struggle with the cover.

Seated closest to the baby, Temari playfully tapped her nose. The child responded by grasping her finger.

Hinata watched them, a small smile crawling across her face. "What's her n-name?"

The door swung open and another person entered the room, his brown hair sticking out in all directions. "Sayaka," he growled, and eyed her suspiciously.

The man was savage looking. More so than he'd been at fourteen.

Kankuro.

He reminded her...sort of...of Kiba.

But Hinata recoiled, wanting to withdraw from his accusing glare.

"Hinata has amnesia," Shikamaru mentioned.

"She doesn't know _anything,_" added Temari, amused. She scooped a spoon of slimy squash out from the jar.

Hinata blushed slightly. She knew _some things!_

Kankuro blinked. "Oh," he muttered, dismissing this information as though it wasn't very interesting at all. He took the empty seat between Gaara and Shikamaru.

Hinata idly watched Temari taunt the baby with her fingers. She offered the spoon, retracted the spoon, and made an assortment of bizarre noises, all while grinning evilly at her daughter.

Hinata bit her bottom lip. Was it cruel that she found the baby's alternating expressions of distress and relief to be absolutely adorable?

But the others had fallen into a heavy silence. It took her a while to notice. It was as though they were...waiting for something.

"_She's not cooking!" _Kankuro whispered loudly.

Hinata blinked. ...why was he looking at her?

As the puppeteer leapt to his feet and stormed out of the room, Temari glared at her, and Shikamaru rubbed his temples.

"How troublesome."

Someone's radio awoke. Hinata was baffled to hear Kankuro's enraged voice crackle through the speakers: "This amnesia thing is _really inconvenient-!"_

Shikamaru reached into his vest and turned his radio off. His wife, however, had fixed Hinata with a horrible sneer.

And Gaara...

Gaara seemed content with his coffee.

Hinata pressed her pointer fingers together. Was she supposed to cook breakfast for everyone? _But she didn't know how to cook!_

She again glanced at the Kazekage, curious of whether or not he was angry.

Gaara seemed to notice the attention, and she quickly looked away again.

He blankly returned to his coffee.

Coffee.

Yuck.

"Tea," he mentioned sarcastically, as though reading her mind. "I promise."

"You're lying," she automatically retorted.

A shock ran through her consciousness. Her response had been mechanical, as though it had happened a million times before. Hinata deeply inhaled. _Gaara. _Images of him flashed through her mind. His monotonous voice. His terrible glare.

And then she heard her own voice. Bland. Dry. But _hers._

_You drink too much coffee._

Gaara's eyes widened slightly. He seemed to catch her wave of nostalgia. "Hinata-?"

She turned away from him. She was too confused to voice what she felt. Instead, she searched desperately for a diversion. She found something of vague familiarity and latched to it. "Tsu-Tsunade-sama – I – she-"

But what did she mean to say?

Seeming dejected by her change, Gaara withdrew. "You remember her," he observed, as if to say, _Not me. _He turned back to his coffee.

But she knew who he was. Gaara – _Gaara_, from the forest of death!

She continued to breathe, and looked everywhere but at him.

Temari had gone back to feeding the child and Shikamaru had pulled out a spare jar of baby food, eying it as though he might try some. The infant was drooling squash everywhere.

Why did it feel like she was intruding upon a family affair?

No one else seemed to find her presence unnatural.

Shikamaru began to stand. With his hair tied and vest closed, he looked significantly tidier than he had when he'd entered. He lightly squeezed Temari's shoulder as he left the room.

Temari's focus remained on Sayaka. After the baby had managed to swallow more of the squash than she had belched, the mother stood and began to gather her. Gaara, meanwhile, lowered his emptied mug to the table.

Hinata stood, wondering whether she would be free to go back to her room. More importantly, would she ever be able to find it?

With the child in tow, Temari began to walk around the table, toward the door, Hinata assumed, until she made a surprising stop in front of her. Temari held the baby out, as though expecting her to take it.

Hinata opened and closed her mouth.

"You usually watch her when I'm on mission," Temari stated. "You say it's good practice for when you decide to-"

Feeling her face catch fire, Hinata quickly took the baby, if only to get Temari to stop talking. Eying her, Temari walked off.

Hinata swallowed. Practice? For when she decided to _**what! **_Her blush intensified. Was she...in a relationship? She glanced uncertainly at Gaara, who was as impassive as ever.

The concept was outlandish. She couldn't imagine a life outside of Konoha.

"Let's go," said Gaara, standing.

She followed him robotically, because it seemed her sole medium, as despairing as it was. She carried the infant against her chest, wondering if she was holding her correctly. Her arms felt weak and clammy as she followed Gaara into the private stairwell. The baby wasn't fretful, but drowsy, for which she was immensely grateful.

"How is your head?" Gaara asked from ahead of her.

Hinata looked up, absently gazing at the back of his neck. His shoulders were always slumped, just slightly, but not to depict his mood. _Habitually_. His voice, that ever-monotonous drone.

It sounded odd that he would say such a thing. It felt odd that he cared.

Hinata deeply inhaled. Physically, she was fine, but emotionally and otherwise, "Bad."

They continued to ascend the staircase until they reached one of the top floors and exited. Gaara lead her back into his office. She watched uncomfortably as he closed the door behind them.

But she was quickly distracted by the Nara baby who was becoming fussy in her arms.

Gaara observed. "She probably needs to be changed," he said.

Hinata raised the baby and sniffed her diaper. "Eugh," she agreed, wrinkling her nose.

"Here," said Gaara. He held his arms out, as though to receive the child.

There was a long pause.

"O-okay," said Hinata, nervously handing Sayaka over.

Ignoring the Hyuuga's look of dread, Gaara walked to his desk, still holding the child out at arms length. He gently lowered her to his impeccable desk top before reaching into a drawer and withdrawing a-

Hinata could only gape, beyond puzzled that Gaara kept diapers in his desk. He changed the baby's diaper in record timing, his expression never deviating from his perpetual indifference.

He looked up, noticing her shock. "Good practice," he deadpanned.

Her face instantly flushed. He was mocking her – rather, the _other _her.

She slowly approached the desk, still feeling dazed and embarrassed. "I still c-can't believe..." he trailed off, staring down at the baby. _"Shikamaru and Temari."_

She didn't know when she had decided that it was safe to speak freely. She barely even noticed the significance of her actions.

"What's so hard to believe about it?" Gaara countered. Though he said it as frankly as he said everything else, there was heaviness behind his words that struck her for some reason.

Hinata looked down. Maybe her scrutiny was disrespectful. But it wasn't skepticism that fueled her contemplation. It was amazement.

She had known Shikamaru and Temari when they were twelve and fifteen, respectively. She felt as though she had missed everything between then and now. What of Kurenai? Where were Kiba and Shino now? And – Naruto?

Gaara was still – _always – _watching her. It was incredibly rude.

...it didn't help how flustered she was. Didn't help that she was distraught over missing out on thirteen years of _Naruto._

...but Naruto was in Konoha...

And she hadn't missed out. She had _chosen _to leave.

Hinata inhaled. "Who am I?" The words slipped out before she could properly deliberate them.

It felt strange to say such a thing. The words sounded crazy once she heard herself breathe them.

She looked at Gaara who was momentarily caught off guard.

Hinata bit her mouth. Who was she in Suna? Who was she to Shikamaru, Temari, Kankuro – and to Gaara?

_ANBU member?_

_Babysitter?_

_...family...member?_

Stiffening slightly, Gaara glanced away. "You're…"


	5. Chapter 5

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 5**

"You're…my…."

There was a pause.

"Personal guard," Gaara stated, collecting the infant from the desk.

Her eyes widened.

"It's important that your condition doesn't get out to the public. It would put you in danger." He stopped, and met her eyes with his tired ones. "It would put me in danger."

* * *

She was yet more confused, if that was even possible. Why would Gaara ever need a personal guard? How could she possibly be effective? Despite how she hated herself for it, Hinata was doubtful of her strength. She followed Gaara down the corridor holding Sayaka against her shoulder. The onlookers held them in a respect she still couldn't comprehend.

Was Gaara...serious?

"Since the loss of Shukaku, my grasp on my abilities has...weakened," Gaara muttered as they walked, now side by side.

She was shocked by the vulnerability hidden in his words – by his level of candor with her.

She didn't understand. She didn't know what Shukaku was.

_Gaara's...weakened?_

He stopped in front of a door, and Hinata followed suit. It was the place he'd brought her yesterday to see Kabuto. Hinata blinked, looking up at him.

Their eyes broke when someone suddenly ran down the corridor, sandals clicking against the marble floors.

A woman with brown hair and dark eyes stopped before Gaara, gasping for breath. She was dressed in an ANBU uniform, a raccoon mask hanging from her belt.

"Matsuri," Gaara addressed her, questioningly.

The woman – Matsuri – leaned down, holding her knees. "Gaara-sama, there's trouble at the gate!"

Hinata watched. She had heard others address him only as Kazekage-sama. She sensed an air of familiarity between the two.

Gaara curtly nodded. He turned back to her. "Hinata-"

Her eyes widened.

"Go inside for your head exam," he finished flatly, snatching the infant from her arms.

She blinked.

"Matsuri," said Gaara, turning to the other kunoichi.

Matsuri's expectant smile became a sour one when Gaara handed the baby to her. She held Sayaka away from her as though she was something unsanitary. "But – wait – I wanted to-"

"Someone needs to watch her," Gaara deadpanned. Turning conclusively away, he walked passed the women and to a casement at the end of the hall. He leapt fluidly through it, disappearing from sight with a swoosh of his cape. Hinata's lips parted in shock.

Gaara could fly?

The two kunoichi hung in an uncomfortable silence, at least until Sayaka began to wail. Hinata glanced at Matsuri to find she was glaring hatefully at her. The other woman continued to hold the drooling baby at arms length, seeming livid with her chore. Paling slightly, Hinata quickly entered Kabuto's office, closing the door firmly behind her.

"Ah, Hyuuga-san."

She looked up at Kabuto who was seated behind the table, again rifling through that manila folder.

"I was just going through your files."

Hinata shyly nodded. She felt somewhat at ease to not have Gaara hover over her – at least for that moment. It gave her time to breathe and properly analyze the situation.

"If you can just change behind that curtain?" Kabuto said, motioning to a white curtain hanging from the ceiling on the other side of the room. There was a hospital gown folded neatly on a chair beside it.

Hinata again nodded, absently gazing at the folder in Kabuto's hands. He had her health files, meaning her full medical history since entering Suna. Through them she would be able to determine how long she'd been in the village as well as what had been going on with her health in relation to missions. Was she really in the ANBU? And Gaara's personal guard?

Kabuto seemed to notice her curious stare. He flicked through the papers, shrugging, "Just the occasional contraceptive."

Hinata quickly ducked behind the curtain, if just to hide her furious blush.

...so she was sexually active...

Trying to breathe, and feeling tremendously scandalized, Hinata reached behind her to untie her obi, ignoring the way her fingers trembled. Maybe Kabuto was just joking. He _had _to be joking.

She allowed the obi to drop to the floor then began to slide the kimono off her shoulders. She realized she could make out Kabuto's seated outline beyond the curtain, and suspected he could see hers. Trying to remind herself that he was a medic, she quickly shed her remaining clothing. _Stop shaking, _she silently urged herself.

"Don't be so nervous," Kabuto said from across the room. "Gaara has me on a full antipsychotics regiment."

Hinata froze, blanching.

"I'm _joking_," Kabuto added, his voice now adorning amusement. "Gaara took me in. Gaara took...a lot of us in."

Hinata blinked and stared at the ground. What did he mean by "us?"

She hastily pulled on the flimsy smock, tying it tightly closed before walking out from behind the curtain. Kabuto smiled affably at her.

The medic's eyes briefly flitted downwards. "You...can't wear jewelry during the X-ray," he mentioned inelegantly.

Hinata blinked in confusion, then quickly remembered the ring. She managed to twist it off her finger with far more effort than she had expected, and stared at the pallid tan line that had been hiding beneath it. She felt her confusion mount as she carefully rested it in Kabuto's hand.

The medical nin offered her a sympathetic smile. "Shall we begin?"

She hurriedly nodded, and he ushered her into one of several rooms off his office.

This room was dimly lit with a CAT scanner in the center. To the right was a wall of glass, behind which she saw a desk and a computer console. That was where Kabuto would view the scans.

"You don't get claustrophobic, do you?"

"N-no!"

"Lie down on the table. Try not to move."

He helped her onto the padded table and she did as she was instructed, lying on her back and staying as still as she could. From the corner of her eye she watched Kabuto enter a door that lead him behind the glass wall. He sat down behind the computer and somewhere an intercom came to life.

"Ready?"

"Un," Hinata responded.

The machine immediately began to hum, moving her slowly into the circular chamber that would X-ray her brain. She closed her eyes and couldn't help but ask, "W-what did you mean before...b-by 'us?'"

She was answered with silence, and slowly began to regret her inquiry.

The intercom awoke: "Orochimaru's leftovers," Kabuto clarified. "Even the Uchiha spent some time in Suna. Heh, I suppose you don't remember _that_ either."

She blinked. "A-and I-?"

"_You, _however, are just a runaway. But don't worry, Hyuuga-san. Gaara especially likes you."

She stared up into the machine. What did that mean?

Hinata nearly jumped when she heard the door suddenly bang open. The machine quickly shut off, and she listened to a new person enter the room.

"What's going on?" Kabuto exited the glass enclosure.

A stranger's voice spoke, "Kazekage-sama requests your assistance at the gate."

Gaara.

Hinata messily climbed out of the CAT scanner. She was so tired of living in limbo. She wanted her life back – whatever life that might be. She met Kabuto's eyes. "I can-"

"You're recovering from a concussion," the medic cut her off. "I got a clean image – we'll go over it later." With that he returned her ring and followed the jounin out of the room.

Hinata absently stared after them, then at the article of jewelry laying in her palm.

* * *

She had briefly shoved the ring into a pocket, then changed her mind and returned it to her finger. She didn't know why.

She was still barefoot, and no one seemed to mind. They offered her curt nods as she moved aimlessly throughout the tower. And it wasn't Gaara anymore. It was _her _they held in that curious regard. _Her _whose arm was briefly squeezed by a stranger.

No one seemed to notice how lost she was.

The elders remained completely frozen – stark silent, _really_ – when she burst into one of their stuffy meeting rooms during her efforts to find that secret stairwell. She squeaked and backed out, oblivious of the suspicious coin bags they hastily shoved in their tunics.

Why did they choose not to _smite _her!?

Someone linked their arm with hers. Hinata looked up.

Temari.

"Where is my child?" the woman inquired.

Hinata blinked. "S-someone – M-Matsuri-?"

Temari sighed in understanding. "Aa. I think this is the door you're looking for."

Hinata looked up to find that she had been lead to the entrance of the small stairwell. "Thank you-" she managed, but Temari was already walking off.

Deeply inhaling, Hinata entered the dim stairwell and quickly began to descend. She felt it was unfair that she was left so confused, and for so long.

She reached the third floor landing and entered the residential area of the tower, feeling her chest flood with relief.

As she moved toward the wing of bedrooms, she idly wondered where Gaara was at that moment. Still dealing with the attack at the gate? On his way back? Already in the tower, at his office, maybe?

She didn't know why she cared – why she was _curious._

It was just…the sun was setting.

She associated night with only bad things. Childhood kidnappings, her mother's death – her own anxiety. And she felt a strange sense of responsibility for Gaara as his…his – his personal guard, of course!

She sagged. The concept was increasingly ludicrous.

She walked toward the bedrooms, turned through the arch, and hung there by the entranceway. She placed her hands on the wall and leaned against it, peeking past the archway and staring intently at the door.

_Where was he? _She waited. She knew he would arrive, right through that door. Not Kankuro, not Temari, but _him._

It could have been hours that she stood there, entranced with that entrance.

When Gaara finally arrived, just as she predicted, his head was bowed, his body hunched, but he seemed otherwise healthy. His torn cape slid behind him as he wearily moved forward.

Hinata continued to silently watch him from behind the wall. She could have activated the byakugan, but opted to peek into the arch to observe the way his red hair hung in his eyes. As the Kage grew closer, she began to quietly withdraw, not noticing the wisps of sand that had begun to circle her ankles and coil up her legs.

Hinata released a startled shriek when something brushed her knee. She stumbled messily out of her hiding place, her back colliding with something hard.

She belatedly realized that it was Gaara's chest. One of his arms automatically caught her waist, steadying her before she could fall forward.

Hinata froze, feeling her face build with heat. Gaara's hold on her seemed to linger, slowly turning from necessity to leisure.

She fiercely broke away, and Gaara let her. She spun around, her face a hot red, and long hair swinging over her shoulder. Mortified, Hinata finally met eyes with Gaara.

-And was stunned to find his lips quirked in a very slight smile. She stood there, lips parted, breathing. Watching.

…she'd never seen him smile.

"I'm all right," he mentioned dully, still approaching – but he was close enough!

Hinata took a step back. "I-I didn't-"

"But you were going to ask," Gaara accused.

Hinata's back connected with a wall, a real one this time. She felt her blush deepen - didn't know why. _This is routine, _the Hyuuga reflected. She didn't know _how _she knew-

This is routine.

Gaara reached down, taking hold of her limp right hand. He tangled her fingers with his, but never turned from her eyes. His expression had become impassive again, the gesture a curious statement, one with a thousand variables she could never hope to organize. Her heart pounded erratically against her chest. She was submerged in uncertainty, frozen in fear – but not of him! Of what his actions told – or suggested – or told! She wondered if he'd catch her if her legs gave out right then. Swallowing her apprehension, Hinata broke away from his eyes to stare at the floor.

Breathing. Breathing.

She needed a moment. Just – a moment.

Her eyes drifted over their hands, still interlocked in that alarming and comfortable sense-

It was then that Hinata noticed Gaara was wearing a ring just like hers.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 6**

She tore her hand out of his, her eyes wide in shock and her face paling.

Gaara seemed undeterred by her withdrawal, but his hand hung open in the air, the ring gleaming against his finger in a way she'd never noticed before.

"I-I- I'm t-tired," she mentioned, stumbling back and holding the wall for support.

Gaara remained unmoving, now staring at her. He lowered his arm, taking no notice of the ornament that had completely discomposed her.

Hinata continued to shakily move back, keeping one of her eyes on Gaara – one on the uncorked sand gourd and the wisps that swept idly around him. She continued to stagger backwards down the corridor, tripping over the occasional potted plant. When she had turned a corner and Gaara was finally out of sight, she ran to her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

She leaned heavily on the wall, her chest heaving. She felt nervous, and jittery, baffled – and even a little violated.

Gaara wore a ring just like hers.

She swallowed uncomfortably.

Hinata lifted her eyes and allowed them to dart aimlessly over the room. For the umpteenth time, they met with the purple flower he'd given her, set neatly on the bureau.

_Gaara, Gaara..._

She remembered...she remembered the sensation of someone's hand sliding along her thigh. She remembered someone systematically lifting her hair and pressing their teeth to the crook of her neck. Kissing. Pressing. Sucking.

Hinata slid down the wall, drawing her knees to her chest. For the second night in a row, she didn't get any sleep at all.

* * *

When she awoke, too-long hair was hanging in her face. Streams of sunlight burned her eyes. Reluctantly, she opened them to slits, and again recalled her whereabouts.

Hinata climbed up her dresser as though she'd just survived a shipwreck. Wobbly as she was, she leaned heavily upon it, her arms weak and clammy beneath her. Blowing aside a stray strand of hair, and stared dizzily at her reflection.

Watery eyes. Flushed skin. Tousled hair. A bit of rug-burn on her nose. Her clothing was a disheveled mess, one of her sleeves hanging off her shoulder.

She inadvertently spotted something, standing there in a daze. It was right then that she noticed something she'd never noticed before.

"...I'm pretty."

There was a knock on the door, and her jittery knees gave out, causing her to collapse in a heap of blue and white. She hastily climbed up again and ambled toward the door, clutching the pieces of her kimono, which were collectively falling apart.

It was Gaara.

She knew it was him.

She leaned on the door, feeling drunk with anxiety and fatigue. She pressed her ear against it. She didn't need the byakugan to know Gaara was there, patiently awaiting her.

Hinata drew a deep breath.

She wished he'd go away.

She stood there, silent, drawing gulps of air only when she had the nerve. The hallway was respectively soundless. Minutes passed, and then dozens of minutes, and when she could no longer take the tension of the nothingness, she flung the door open.

Her kimono slid further, exposing a generous amount of that cleavage she wasn't supposed to have. The passing Kankuro tripped on a stray spot of floor.

Hinata quickly slammed the door closed, her face bright red and every inch of her skin burning in embarrassment. She allowed her clothes to fall around her ankles despite herself. She was too numb for her nudity to properly register.

As tempted as she was to crawl into bed, close her eyes-

Where was Gaara?

...and why did the world revolve around him? He was self-absorbed, that was all. Attention obsessed...or something.

She continued to stand there against the door, waiting patiently for him to knock.

Nothing.

For the past two days, Gaara had stayed close to her. He had purposely kept her by his side.

Her heart continued to race.

Pushing herself off the wall, Hinata activated the byakugan and slowly revolved. The Kazekage was not on the third floor.

Allowing the veins beside her eyes to retract, she lightly shook herself. She had to release her growing preoccupation with him. Gaara was the Kazekage, but just...just _one _of the many pieces to her puzzling environment. She needed to analyze everything if she had any hopes of finding herself.

Tiredly, she entered the bathroom adjoining her bedroom and turned on the bath water. Her panic attacks had always left her both physically and emotionally drained. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo she didn't particularly like, and a soap bar she wouldn't have personally preferred, before shedding her remaining clothing and stepping into the tub. The hot water instantly soothed her jerks and trembles.

She lowered herself to the bottom of the bath, allowing her eyelids to lower.

...Gaara wore a ring just like hers...

She sank until both her mouth and nose were submerged.

Fear or curiosity...which of these feelings would trump the other?

Still, she wore that ring, mostly out of habit. Not once had she considered removing it again. Never once had it been a problem.

Just – Gaara.

The water level crept toward her eyes. She deeply exhaled, exuding a barrage of air bubbles. She allowed her body to drop, submerging herself completely in the water.

Those memories...as vague and precarious as they were...they tortured her.

She remembered Suna's heat beating her back. Someone's touch...ghosting her neck. She remembered their lips pressing her temple, her face, the hollow between her collarbone. Urgent kisses, that traced her jaw.

Hinata broke the water's surface, gasping for breath. She trembled despite the warmth, and shakily climbed out of the tub. She wrapped a towel around herself, grabbing another and burying her face.

It was all just terrifying. The feelings, the confusion – it left her debilitated by apprehension.

Lowering the towel from her face and instead using it to dry her hair, Hinata exited the bathroom and quickly got dressed, determined to resuscitate her composure.

She located her sandals, buried in the back of the wardrobe, and hastily passed a comb through her uncomfortably long hair.

When she exited the room, she moved numbly toward the kitchen, and was surprised to find it without incident. She had quickly become comfortable with her surroundings on the third floor. It was only the bedroom that bothered her. She was again dressed in a kimono she wasn't at all familiar with.

She held her breath as she entered the kitchen, but stopped in the doorframe upon spotting Gaara's noticeable absence. She slipped away before any of the others could notice her. She didn't know why she was suddenly unnerved. Why was she so obsessed with Gaara's whereabouts?

But he was her...constant.

He was all she had in Suna. He was both a vague and a definite opportunity to uncover her past. He perplexed her, but he-

He wore that ring. A simple, elegant, white golden band. He wore _her _ring!

Fighting down her unease, and nervousness, and nausea, she exited the stairwell into the more public floors of the Kazekage tower. She reached her destination before she knew what it was.

When she faced the broad oak doors leading into Gaara's office, she paused, fingering the handle, and feeling small beads of sweat form on her temple. What did she mean to do? Or say? Was he even in there? Or was he still in bed? Was he peeved with her behavior? Would she be instantly consumed with sand?

Unconsciously shaking her head, Hinata forced herself to enter the office, and spotted none other than-

Her breath hitched in her throat.

...Gaara was dead.

Seating behind his desk, his face was connected with his papers in a manner that suggested he had abruptly collapsed. His body was pale, rigid, and completely unmoving. His closed eyes had become horrible blotches of black.

Hinatas heart pounded so heavily she thought it might explode. Tentatively, she inched forward and touched his shoulder.

No response.

"G-Gaara?"

Nothing.

The Kazekage was dead... And she was the only witness – maybe the only suspect! Who would want to kill him? _Well plenty of people would want to kill him! _She began to fidget madly and hyperventilate.

"He does that sometimes."

She spun on her heel and spotted Kabuto leaning on the doorframe. His lips carried a genial smile and the hint of amusement.

"He forgets to sleep," the medic elaborated. "All the exhaustion hits him at once."

That's when she heard it. A slight draw – a snore, even. Her face flushed in mortification. She wondered how she ever heard anything beyond her pounding temple.

Kabuto continued to crookedly grin. "I've printed out your scans. Can you tell him I'll be free to see the two of you this evening?"

...the two of them. As though it was as much Gaara's concern as it was hers.

As Kabuto left, closing the door behind him, Hinata slowly turned back to the desk. She watched Gaara shift slightly. "K-K-Kabuto s-said-"

"I heard," Gaara interrupted, his voice muffled in various articles of paperwork. After a few more reluctant moments in which she didn't breathe and he again became inanimate, he sat up and instantly looked like he indeed hadn't been passed out on his desk a moment prior.

Gaara shuffled some papers around. "I was going through letters," he droned monotonously. "One from Konoha."

_And it bored you into unconsciousness? _Hinata moved slightly closer despite her better judgment.

Gaara didn't notice. "Concerning our alliance," he continued blandly. "Tsunade feels it's been weakened over the past few years."

Why was he telling her this? As though he told her a lot of things?

Hinata searched desperately for something to contribute. "I – I took a bath."

There was a pause in which Gaara looked up at her, and she stared blankly back, her face slowly becoming fuchsia. She had just disclosed to Gaara that she had _taken a bath, _as though her nudity was somehow notable and relevant.

The stunned silence hung between them for what felt like hours, and it slowly suffocated her. She felt blood continue to pool in her face.

And then the moment ended, and Gaara returned to his paperwork, not seeming particularly interested in her spontaneous revelation. "Self-medication," he observed. "It helps your anxiety."

Her body felt increasingly hot. "How do you kn-?"

"I brought your herbs," Gaara added, reaching into his desk and withdrawing a jar crammed with plants of various colors. "It also tends to help." He pushed it toward her before leafing through more of his papers.

Why did he know her so well? Why did he seem to know her better than she knew herself?

"W-where d-did you g-get them?" she feebly inquired, feeling weak.

A pause.

Gaara tiredly looked up, meeting her eyes. A challenge. "I found them," he deadpanned.

He was a bad liar, but he didn't seem to mind.

She would have asked "where?" if she had the nerve...and if she didn't expect a generic answer. She looked dejectedly at the floor, and felt Gaara lower his scrutiny. Shyly, she touched the desk and looked down at the letter, curious of what held so much of his attention. Absently, she moved behind him and leaned over him, unconscious of the way she bothered him in her defeat. She didn't notice that she grasped his shoulder for support as she too skimmed over Tsunade's letter.

But her short attention span would surely be her ruin.

Because Gaara was touching the bridge of his nose – which meant she was giving him a headache. Smiling slightly, she reached down and rubbed his temples.

-Belatedly realizing _just what_ she was doing.

Her face paled.

Gaara barely seemed to notice, or mind for that matter. He closed his eyes. Breathed. Allowed it.

Hinata began to withdraw, but Gaara caught her arm so abruptly her breath hitched in her throat. She stood frozen in his grip. They quickly fell into another silence so tense her knees threatened to buckle. The room became a waving collage of colors and shapes. Gaara suddenly pulled her closer.

She caught his neck just to keep her balance. Pressed to his back with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, Hinata continued to drift in a steady dizziness. She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling scents both bitter and sweet. She didn't know why, but they were somehow familiar. Like dying nectar. Like dried aloe.

She remained there for a while, clinging to his warmth, when she suddenly recalled she was her and he was him.

Gaara opened his eyes as she successfully pulled away. He drew and exhaled, looking slightly annoyed. "Hinata-"

A sharp sob escaped her throat.

Gaara paused and glanced over his shoulder. He spotted the tears on her cheeks and took to staring. "Why are you crying?" he questioned robotically.

Hinata buried her face in her hands. "I'm – s-scared," she hiccupped.

"Of what?" said Gaara.

She didn't respond, but cried harder.

Briefly watching her, Gaara turned away. "Rub my temples," he commanded.

Hinata froze, slowly lowering her hands from her face. She hesitated, unable to think or react, but her panic quickly prompted her compliance. Her fingers felt like awkward stubs.

"Slowly," said Gaara, seeming appreciative if just by closing his eyes again.

Hinata stared down at him, her wet cheeks left forgotten.

"Slowly."

She felt like a twelve-year-old trapped in a woman's body. She wasn't prepared for half the things she was going through and her anxiety consistently got the better of her. _Slowly, _she reflected, idly staring down at Gaara's head. Gaara wasn't pushing her in any direction. No one was. Initially, she'd felt lost. Abandoned.

But now...now she was appreciative.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 7**

_Dear Kazekage-sama,_

_I have successfully completed my mission. The body was disposed of as per ANBU's policy. Expect me back in three days._

_Love Hinata._

* * *

They stood just outside the kitchen, behind the door frame where they were partially hidden from view. She nervously pressed her pointer fingers together as he crossed his arms.

"You're nurturing," he muttered – his passionless explanation. "They got used to it."

"B-but I don't know how to c-cook," Hinata stammered, her nervous fidgeting somehow escalating.

Gaara moved closer to her, but it was unnecessary – gratuitous. Her eyes became entranced with his weary ones. "I'll hire someone," he muttered – but softly; with painstaking patience.

Hinata felt heat rise to her face. She found it difficult to hold those eyes – his deliberate kindness, so cautious it embarrassed her. So she rested her gaze on his chest. Blinking back her nerves, she said, feebly, "I d-don't know – _who _I am."

Gaara's eyes in turn had drifted to her hands, where she had taken to twiddling her thumbs. He looked slightly disturbed, as though she was doing something unusual.

Hinata blinked as he took her fingers and plucked them apart. His hands then slid to her shoulders, and he unexpectedly pulled her closer. She weakly submitted, stumbling gently forward until their distance was closed and their bodies were touching. Gaara leaned over her ear, and said as blandly as he said everything else, "Would you like me to tell you?"

She deeply drew, her eyelids lowering. "You don't...have to," she breathed the words, feeling him pull her closer.

"Oi."

Hinata's head snapped up. Blushing hotly, she watched Temari poke her head into the room. The blonde seemed to ignore their intimate positioning. "Do you mind?" she said coolly. "We've been waiting for you."

Gaara pulled away from Hinata. He curtly nodded, though his eyes never left the Hyuuga's fraught ones.

Temari snorted and returned to the kitchen.

Hinata swallowed, feeling a bead of sweat roll down her neck. She reluctantly returned her attention to Gaara, who was still holding her shoulders.

"Hinata..."

"...un?"

Gaara slowly released her, as though concerned she would fall. "We'll continue this discussion later."

"...un..."

He turned toward the kitchen. Instinctively, she caught his arm-

He glanced at her.

-Because surely her legs wouldn't carry her on their own.

And when they finally entered the kitchen, her body moving only by impulse...the scene was just horrible! Shikamaru was clutching his abdomen and groaning in pain, and Kankuro – Kankuro was dead!

Well...unconscious.

But the two men looked up upon their entrance. Hinata released Gaara's arm as though it suddenly burned.

"So she's regaining her memory?" Shikamaru observed.

"No," said Gaara. "Nothing.

This prompted six eyebrows to raise.

"Hm..." said the Nara, eying the heiress then the Kazekage.

"_How the hell do you do it?"_ Kankuro questioned his brother with unadulterated disbelief.

Temari simply smirked and busied herself with slimy squash.

And Hinata couldn't handle any of it – the three of them – speculating about her as though she wasn't right there. As though she wasn't a person, but some twisted form of entertainment.

"I'll c-cook b-breakfast!" she squeaked, before thinking, before _caring _to think, because she desperately wanted to separate herself from the conversation.

She walked clumsily to a cupboard and quickly found a box of rice. She hugged it to her chest and noticed Gaara attending to the coffee maker across from her.

He threw another glance. That was all.

Then he took his usual seat beside Kankuro and that empty spot reserved for her.

After fifteen minutes of boiling rice, chopping meat, and smashing fruits, Hinata was proud to have produced riceballs.

But...she feared the fish was slightly undercooked, and the jelly, burnt – and who liked burnt jelly!? It was horrible! She could just cry!

She sat at the table, stark silent, as Shikamaru dry heaved into his jounin vest. Kankuro released an indignant snarl and stormed out of the kitchen for the second time in as many days. Temari, meanwhile, fixed Hinata with a disbelieving stare, and Sayaka bawled at her father's apparent distress.

Strangely enough, nothing was vocalized. Hinata sniffed. At least they chose to spare her feelings. She balled up her fists and rubbed her eyes.

"This is horrible."

Hinata dropped her hands and turned to Gaara, who was just lowering his riceball. She felt her face catch fire. "I – I-"

"Are you trying to poison me?"

"N-no! I – I just-!"

"Just what?"

"G-Gaar-"

"Kazekage-sama," he interrupted.

Hinata blinked, staring at him, and ignoring the moisture beneath her eyes. She briefly glanced at Shikamaru and Temari, who seemed equally surprised.

"Kazekage-s-sama," she uncertainly reciprocated. The title felt alien on her tongue.

Gaara had rested his face against his knuckles, taking an almost leisurely approach to observing her. "**I** am going to create lunch," he announced blandly.

There was an eerie silence. The way he said "create" as opposed to "cook," left everyone feeling strangely paranoid.

Temari suddenly stood, looking scandalized. "Gaara – you don't have to-"

"Hinata will assist."

Temari's mouth snapped shut, and the heavy silence returned. Hinata stared at her lap, feeling her heart pound and blush intensify.

Shikamaru untucked his face from his vest, looking rather green. "That settles it," he drawled humorlessly. "Lunch will be doubly noxious."

She listened to the distinct sound of Gaara ignoring him. She heard Shikamaru and Temari pack up their child and leave. When Hinata finally had the courage to look up, she found that Gaara was still watching her.

"What are we m-making for lunch?" she managed nervously.

Gaara turned away, raising his coffee mug to his lips.

"Cookies."

She blanched. "W-what?"

"We're making cookies."

"F-for l-lunch!?"

"Yes," said Gaara.

She continued to stare at him. He finished his beverage.

"I'll get the cinnamon. You get the sugar," said Gaara. And with that, he walked off. Hinata opened and closed her mouth.

Ten minutes later, when she realized Gaara was utterly serious about his pastry-baking proposal, she frightfully watched him disperse sprinkles and stir the batter with astonishing expertise.

Despite his odd choices of ingredients, like relish and tomato sauce, their only real problem was that Gaara kept getting sand in the dough...but as the morning progressed, Hinata began to suspect he was doing it intentionally.

She took a bite of the finished product, and her eyes widened in amazement. "This is great!" she lied.

She watched Gaara carefully place each of the remaining cookies into his sand gourde. He glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. "Let's get out of here," he muttered.

She blinked. "W-what about Shikamaru and T-Temari?"

"What about them?"

She numbly followed him out of the kitchen, feeling violated for some reason. She trudged after Gaara, staring at his crossed arms, his indifferent posture, and could no longer contain it. "You're s-strange!"

"Aa," Gaara agreed.

She continued to stare, absently picking sand out of her teeth.

* * *

She sat on the couch by his desk, her legs drawn, and arms wrapped around her knees. She ignored the way her stomach growled, her eyelids fluttered, and the room swam around her. She ignored the mess that had become of her mentality, and threw a glance at Gaara who was diligently analyzing mission reports.

...it was awfully boring.

"D-don't I have m-missions?" she inquired.

Not that she thought she was ready for missions, at least not those of the ANBU level. But he could start her off with small ones. She was a kunoichi. If she'd learned anything from Naruto, it was the art of perseverance.

...she missed being twelve.

...she missed Naruto.

"You're recovering," said Gaara, not looking up from his work.

But this was the way she was. This was the only _her _she knew. "You're not l-letting me recover."

She didn't know where she'd gotten the nerve.

Rehabilitation was part of their lifestyle. Accepting that they were broken, and piecing together what was left.

But Gaara disagreed.

He lowered his quill and met her eyes. "You will recover," he said. It sounded more like a command than an assurance.

She didn't know why she meant to protest. Maybe it was that fear that came and went, sometimes smothering her, sometimes leaving her alone and breathless. "I-" She paused, and her word hung meaninglessly in the air. She could count her shallow draws, each pounding heartbeat. Fear was better. Fear was safe. In its absence came emotions that made no sense. "Okay," she said meekly, blushing slightly despite herself.

She wouldn't mind recovering her memories.

Gaara was nothing like Naruto. He wasn't nice, or warm, loud, or boisterous. He wasn't overpowering, and suffocating, and his presence didn't overwhelm all others.

Gaara was just...

Strange.

Her blush deepened, and she didn't know why.

Gaara stood. "Let's go see Kabuto."

* * *

The medic's hands searched her neck for lymph nodes, then her vertebrae for fractures. He carelessly brushed her long hair over one of her shoulders.

Gaara watched.

He watched Hinata bow her head, allowing her bangs to hang in her eyes, self-conscious in her flimsy smock. Her bare feet hung in the air, and she twisted them uncomfortably, her ankles turning, her toes touching.

Her fidgetiness was amazingly annoying.

"How is she?" said Gaara, continuing to eye her. She blushed under his observance.

It was...interesting.

"You're early," Kabuto countered, not turning away from his wife. "How do you feel, Hinata?"

She looked up. Swallowed. "G-good?" She consistently crumbled under their scrutiny and looked back down.

The corner of Gaara's lip twitched. "That stutter doesn't suit you."

"I think it suits her well," Kabuto disagreed. He finally pulled away and walked to one of his cabinets by the door. He opened a drawer and withdrew the manila folder with Hinata's name on it. He pulled out an x-ray, holding it under the light. "I haven't had a chance to look over the scans..." he trailed off. But right there, as he spoke, he expertly inspected them with his eyes. Gaara watched his eyebrows raise. Watched his lips part.

_What? _he wanted to know.

Kabuto adjusted his glasses. "Good, looking very good," he said, to Hinata, still smiling warmly at her.

She seemed to exhale. Her face flooded with relief.

Then Kabuto turned away.

"Kazekage-sama, can I speak to you outside?" The medic briskly exited the room without waiting for a response. Gaara followed, crossing his arms and ignoring Hinata's confused expression.

When they were in the hall, with the door closed securely behind them, the medic's entire demeanor had changed. He again held up the x-ray, frowning as he fingered an area at the surface of the brain. "The injury left her brain damaged." Kabuto delivered the information quickly, efficiently, as only a doctor could. "The amnesia is most likely permanent."

Gaara's eyes widened.

Kabuto grasped his shoulder, though he knew it was unwarranted. "I'm sorry."

He might have looked sympathetic, but Gaara didn't notice. Stray beads of sand filtered mindlessly around him. Some fell off him. He couldn't collect his emotions or his abilities.

"I'm sorry," Kabuto repeated. "I'll send her out here so you can tell her yourself." With that, Kabuto returned to the office.

Gaara placed his hand on the wall and stared at the floor. He watched a fleck of sand fall from his face. Another, then more, falling completely apart like droplets. He looked up as the door opened again, slowly, tentatively, like she might have been holding her breath.

Then Hinata exited the office, flushed, and pretty, and pressing her pointer fingers together. She seemed happy, and rejuvenated. Finally gathering her courage, she managed, weakly, "Were we...together?" Her fidgeting stopped, and she tried again, staring into his eyes. "Do we – belong together?"


	8. Chapter 8

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 8**

He had reached out to her face, to touch her again, and she'd duly recoiled. Instinctively. Like he was a murderer.

Like she was a twelve-year-old girl.

He'd stood there and watched her, slowly pulling back.

He couldn't accept her without her memories. He couldn't accept anything less than his wife.

Gaara turned into his pillow, breathed in her scent, and mumbled groggily, dispassionately-

"I miss you."

* * *

She was starting to remember some things, well, _a lot of things. _All images of _him _– touching her in ways that made her feel dirty.

Like the way he'd marked her neck then unpersuasively apologized. The way he did it again and again.

Hinata lay on her back staring at the ceiling, her long hair splayed around her.

She remembered his pale skin…his hot breath…his methodical style of intimacy. But his pleasant smirk.

…not Gaara?

She felt a burning mixture of regret, frustration, and humiliation. The heat lingered in her cheeks despite the hour. She couldn't sleep. She was too mortified.

"We weren't together," the Kazekage had said coolly. "What would make you think that?"

Was she confused? Was he lying to her? But why would he lie? Unless he – didn't want her anymore?

She squeezed her eyes closed. She was being speculative…stupid. Too emotional to think clearly. Her imagination was getting the better of her judgment. Maybe she really was just confused - the amnesia had left everything backwards. She mistook Gaara's courtesy for intimacy. She was sporting the mind of a twelve-year-old, after all. To her, everything was probably grossly exaggerated.

She was Gaara's personal guard…that was all.

But something still didn't make sense. Hinata twisted the white golden ring off her finger and held it before her eyes, watching it gleam under the lamp light.

She stared at it, quietly baffled. It didn't make any sense at all.

When she awoke the next morning, she felt much like she did every morning in Suna: confused to the point of despair. She bathed, dressed, and brushed her long hair, wondering if life was supposed to feel so lonely.

She continued to stare into the mirror as she robotically brushed her hair.

Those memories suggested otherwise.

Hinata swallowed.

She should have told Kabuto about the things she was beginning to remember - so he could better monitor her progress. Maybe it would even be advantageous. The medic seemed to know her – at least the _other_ her. He'd even prescribed – the _other _her – birth control pills in the past.

She blushed furiously.

So surely, Kabuto would know who – the other her – had been sleeping with. He'd probably be able to give her some insight on his identity. A gentle push in the right direction.

-Not that she wanted to go – _anywhere _– in that – **gross **– direction! She just wanted to know who she was!

And it was embarrassing! She hadn't anything appropriate to disclose to Kabuto! Not a memory of a birthday, or an injury, or some other experience of significance. Not anything that would _make sense _to remember. No. All she could gather of those thirteen missing years, was some pervert touching her inappropriately.

Her blush continued to build.

Maybe she could wait until she matched a face to the horrible sexual ghost in her head. Maybe even a name.

She could mention it offhandedly. The pale skinned man with perfect teeth. A stranger of vague familiarity. Who was he? What was his relationship to her?

But she was _sure _he was _Gaara. Gaara! Gaara!_

_No he wasn't!_ She was deluding herself. Gaara was the Kazekage. That was _all _he was. Hinata leaned down and rested her elbows on the burea, burying her face in her hands.

She'd wait to remember a little more. Maybe she'd remember _different _things. _Nicer _things. She wouldn't give herself away just yet.

For all she knew, it could have been a terrible secret.

_Who am I?_

Hinata slid her hands down from her face. She forced herself to stand straight despite her perpetual unease. Sniffing, she glanced at the bedroom door, just as she did every morning.

Gaara wasn't out there. She had to stop obsessing over him.

She admittedly didn't want to leave the bedroom - not that she ever wanted to leave the bedroom. She couldn't face Gaara. She'd made a fool of herself. He probably thought she liked him.

…not that she liked him…

Swallowing her courage, her fear, and incidentally everything else, she aimed herself for the door and burst into the hall.

She had hoped leaving her room would be another ploy of irony's - that maybe coming out of _thinking _and _hiding _would feel like taking a breath of fresh air.

It wasn't.

Gaara stood at the end of the hall looking at something in the opposite direction. His arms were crossed, his body stationary, as though he was, maybe, waiting for something. It could have been purely coincidental.

She didn't care.

Hinata gasped her doorknob and frantically tried to return to her bedroom.

"Hinata."

She froze and slowly looked up. Gaara was looking directly at her.

"Let's go."

That was all. A two syllable remark and she was all his.

She numbly approached him and couldn't speak. Maybe he knew it.

"We have a breakfast meeting with the elders," Gaara stated, turning and beginning to walk without uncrossing his arms. She trailed after him.

A breakfast meeting, he'd said. And she was to attend? Was it her place to attend? She wasn't - _anyone!_

And even if she was to join Gaara as his personal guard, was that not a sign of disrespect? Was it not just strange?

Hinata didn't like meetings. She became instantly nervous, and dizzy, and faint. She could barely handle family dinners, let alone _meetings._

She bit her bottom lip, hoping she wouldn't have to speak.

_Couldn't speak._

"How are you?" Gaara offered, indifferent.

"G-good."

She didn't notice the way she pressed her pointer fingers together as they entered the staircase.

* * *

When they reached the meeting room, Kankuro and Temari were present, both seated at a large circular table with a dozen or so elderly men and women. There were only two remaining seats, beside each other, and she was ushered to the one at Gaara's immediate right.

The meeting hadn't begun yet. The elders chattered quietly amongst themselves. Kankuro and Temari were having a hushed argument about Shikamaru's inadequacies. Gaara was looking down at a pile of papers that had been placed in front of him, and had taken to mostly ignoring her.

Hinata nervously shook her foot under the table. She noticed that several servers had filtered into the room carrying trays of food. Abruptly surrendering his side of the argument, Kankuro grabbed his fork and knife as a platter of steak was placed in front of him. Hinata blinked as a bowl of miso soup was subsequently set in front of her. Was this what she ate all the time?

She glanced at Gaara, who was only served a cup of coffee. Her cheek twitched, and she didn't know why.

One of the elders began to speak. It seemed the meeting was beginning.

"I trust you're well Kazekage-sama?" said the man. He seemed to be among the younger elders despite the mane of gray that framed his face.

Gaara curtly nodded to acknowledge the man, but didn't bother to look up from his papers.

"And your lovely wi-"

"What is this about, Hiroto?" Gaara interrupted, finally looking up. He looked serious, and consequently, dangerous.

Several of the elders seemed to recoil. It seemed that Gaara already knew what the matter was about. Everyone knew. Even Kankuro and Temari had adopted solemn expressions. Hinata could only look on in confusion.

"This is about our relations with the other villages," Hiroto responded authoritatively. "Particularly Konoha."

Hinata blinked. Problems with Konoha? She recalled Tsunade's correspondence, but hadn't paid it much attention. She looked around the table. All eyes were on Gaara.

Elders served as a Kage's advisers, but in consensus they were a superior power. To see them and Gaara at this apparent discord was outlandish.

_Over…Konoha?_

"You consistently bring this up," said Gaara, seeming slightly annoyed.

"And you consistently ignore me," Hiroto countered. "This problem must be dealt with before it escalates. Alliances aren't built on word alone. It's time to tie up our loose ends with Konoha."

She'd always known Gaara for his indifference, but she could feel his growing anger. His eyes had become deadly, narrowed pools.

And then it disappeared as quickly as it had come. If his apathy was artificial, the elders knew it. Some looked uneasy. Others, prepared to bolt. Even Kankuro and Temari seemed slightly unsettled, but Hiroto persisted, and kept his eyes with Gaara's.

Hinata didn't know what compelled her to grab his hand under the table. She spotted the brief flicker of shock, but he quickly returned his attention to the dispute.

"What do you propose?" he muttered, reaching for his coffee with his free hand.

"I'm not sure yet," Hiroto admitted. "I arranged for the Hokage to send some delegates here for negotiations. They will arrive by this afternoon, speaking on behalf of the Hyuuga clan."

Hinata's eyes widened.

**This was about her!?**

She felt herself pale. Watched the room spin.

Felt Gaara's fingernails dig into the palm of her hand. He wasn't going to let her faint.

Hinata's heart pounded. The whole meeting - _about her. _She sunk in her seat, wanting only to implode.

"They will stay as long as it takes," Hiroto continued.

"To collect her?" Gaara inquired.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

"If that's what it comes down to."

"Very well." Gaara rose, and she hastily followed, wondering if she wasn't going to be sick.

Gaara was still holding her hand, and didn't seem to mind that the others saw it. No one found it unusual. The elders nervously returned to their meals as Gaara guided her out of the room.

They exited the meeting room onto an inside balcony. Hinata pulled away from Gaara and moved wearily to the railing. She leaned heavily upon it, deeply breathing. The landing looked down the front entrance of the tower where ninja continuously filtered in and out.

Hinata focused on them in her efforts to ignore the growing madness.

She watched Gaara approach from the corner of her eye. He stood beside her.

"Hinata."

Always Hinata. Not Hyuuga-san. No hint of formality, just this…familiarity.

There was a pause as she relished in his company. His presence had come to offer her comfort. She didn't understand why.

Gaara too had taken to staring down on the first floor. "You're clenching your hands together."

She looked down and noticed her hands were grasped together so tightly her knuckles were white.

"It means you're upset," Gaara finished.

Hinata pulled her hands apart and turned to face him. Why did he know her so well? She stared at Gaara challengingly, biting her mouth and waiting for him to answer her silent question.

He simply threw her a glance, offering a weary, "Aa?"

Hinata took a deep breath, ignoring the way her hands trembled. "I'm yours," she managed. "You're - you're mine!"

She felt her color slowly drain. She had just _staked a claim_ on Gaara. She watched him blink.

Then he turned to completely face her, observing her knotted hands and flushed cheeks. "You like me." He addressed a blatant fact.

She instantly turned red. "I - I-"

She froze when Gaara again reached to her face, but she didn't flinch this time. He idly brushed hair out of eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyelids slowly lowered.

"The letter you sent me…"

Her eyes snapped up.

"I noticed your handwriting was completely different. That was the amnesia."

She gulped, realizing what he was getting at.

"But why did you sign the letter with 'love'?" Gaara inquired, closely watching her.

Her blush deepened, if that was even possible, and she quickly launched into damage control. "I w-was c-concussed!"

A slight twitch of his cheek.

"D-delirious!"

He twitched again, turning back to the railing. "We don't belong together," he muttered dismissively, as though he'd just made the decision right there.

She stared at him, feeling scandalized. Her retort spilled out before she could stop herself, "Then why do you wear a ring like mine?"

She watched his eyes widen, but Gaara collected his composure as quickly as he'd given it away.

"Kazekage-sama," a jounin suddenly interrupted. Gaara looked up, and Hinata deflated. She felt mentally and emotionally drained.

"Your guests have arrived," the jounin continued, motioning to the front entry way.

Hinata curiously looked down at the entrance from the balcony, her face flooding with surprise when she saw team seven enter the building.

But it wasn't Naruto's presence that caught her off. Her eyes met black ones and stayed there.

Uchiha Sasuke was staring right back.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 9**

_Hot breath, messy hair, inky eyes..._ She was again flooded with memories of her dark stranger.

And his voice, colder, _deeper, _than Gaara's, his words both sleek and harsh, _You're mine._

Jerking out of her stupor just from the shock of that silent statement, Hinata broke fiercely away from Sasuke's eyes. Feeling numb, she tried to leave, when someone caught her wrists.

She had nearly forgotten Gaara, standing right there beside her.

With her vision obscured by her wet lashes, Hinata stared feebly into his narrowed green eyes. She just wanted to get away from Sasuke. She glanced back down at the first floor to see the Uchiha and his comrades had disappeared into the building. She stared blankly at the ground as she tried to catch her breath, still vaguely conscious of the Kazekage's very firm hold on her wrists.

When seconds turned to moments, and she realized he wouldn't surrender, she slowly turned back to him.

Her cheeks were wet, but she didn't know why. She cried now just from the stress; the mounting anxiety and confusion.

"You remember him," said Gaara. It wasn't a question.

Hinata didn't respond. She didn't know how to. She wanted to apologize, but didn't know what for. Surely her mind was tricking her. Misunderstanding, miscommunicating, even _mangling _her memories. She closed her eyes. There were too many details assaulting her at once. Surely she was jumbling things.

She opened her eyes as she felt Gaara release her wrists, more gently than he'd caught them. She couldn't read the man with her white eyes. Even then, he gave nothing away, but a very long draw and a very long exhalation. She continued to stare entreatingly up at him, searching for something to say, but producing nothing.

Gaara turned and walked away, and she could do little more than stare after him.

Hinata slowly wrapped her arms around herself, looking again at the floor.

Uchiha...Sasuke...

What did he have to do with her? He was Naruto's brother. To her, he was someone very important to Naruto, but...to _her_...nothing more. How had he caught her undivided attention simply by entering a crowded room, and flanked by a pink-haired kunoichi and her lifelong crush.

_He'd been staring right back._

Hinata swallowed. She remembered less than half of her own life. Maybe the two had become acquainted in the lost thirteen years.

Ignoring the shiver that ran up her spine, Hinata lifted her head and forced her legs to move. They carried her toward the stairs and she began an uneasy ascend.

Although she felt perpetually lost within the Kazekage tower, the main staircase led ultimately to the roof. She didn't know what compelled her to go up there, but she traveled from one floor to the next, step by wobbly step. When she reached the top floor, she met her sole obstacle in a locked metal door. Hinata simply slipped through a window and climbed the wall, slightly shocked by the strength and ease of her chakra control. She had solicited it without even thinking, white ki flowing to her hands and feet.

She lastly climbed over the railing that encircled the roof before leaning upon it to peer down at the village. She smiled slightly despite herself. She had admittedly misjudged the village of Sand. Konoha was beautiful, but enclosed completely in forests. It was nice to see the horizon for once, and the way the sun shined on the buildings. Sometimes the heat wasn't overwhelming, but pleasant. The streets were alive, the shinobi beautifully tan.

And she had never been authorized to visit the roof of the Hokage tower. Belatedly, she wondered if she was allowed to be on this one.

"We thought we'd find you here."

Stiffening slightly, Hinata spun around. Her eyes widened as Naruto and Sakura approached her. "A-ano-?" Nervously, her eyes darted about the rooftop. Uchiha Sasuke was nowhere in sight.

The Leaf nins seemed to catch her unease.

"Hinata..." Sakura began.

"You're here to t-take me back," Hinata breathed.

A pained expression briefly crossed Naruto's face. "You have to understand, you left, Hinata. And you must know the protocol? You've been classified a missing nin."

_Her, _a missing nin. It was outlandish.

"We don't want to have to take you. We just want to reach an agreement," Naruto finished. Hinata weakly nodded. "But we'll save the politics for later. How are you?" He offered her one of his trademark grins, instantly changing the atmosphere like only he could. Hinata felt heat rise to her cheeks as his eyes focused completely on hers.

How...was she?

What a..._bizarre _inquiry. One moment she could be floating on cloud nine, and the next, conscious if just by coincidence, because she really just wanted to curl up and die.

Naruto grasped her shoulder, concern adorning his radiant eyes.

But all her anxiety was coming back with menace. Naruto's presence made her all the more vulnerable. Her few moments of comfort shrinking away, Hinata slipped out of Naruto's hold and lowered herself to the floor. She drew up her knees to wrap her arms around them. "Good," she mumbled into her dress.

She felt Naruto and Sakura lower on either side of her. One of them began to rub large circles on her back. She didn't know who, but it left her arms gritty.

"Still struggling with the amnesia, I see," Naruto said sympathetically, but she caught the amusement in his voice.

How could he be simultaneously hurtful and reassuring? And how did it always work?

It was that everlasting confidence in his voice, as though he _knew_ everything was perfectly fine, and if it wasn't, _it would be._

Yet she felt nauseous.

"Oh c'mon, Gaara can't be _that _bad."

How did he seem to know Gaara was the source of all her distress. Hinata kept her face buried in her knees.

"Aren't I?" said someone behind them.

The hand on her back suddenly disappeared. Hinata slowly lifted her head, noticing that Naruto and Sakura were looking at something behind them.

"Gaara," Naruto grinned. She watched the blonde's smile impossibly widen, as though maybe _he _knew Gaara the way she did sometimes. She followed his gaze to the cross-armed Kage.

"Naruto-san," the Kage returned, a brief glint of ease crossing his eyes. His gaze then shifted to Hinata, and became again void.

And she wanted to hide in a closet somewhere.

Sakura stood. "We'll give you two some privacy."

But Naruto wasn't budging. Hinata watched as Sakura grabbed his arm and jerked him up from the ground. She dragged Naruto off by the upper arm, ignoring his grumbled protests. Gaara disregarded them. Hinata helplessly watched them go.

Her eyes shifted to the ground as she listened to Gaara approach her. He offered her his hand, and she numbly accepted it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. They briefly held each other's eyes, before Gaara turned to the village. He reached into his pocket to withdraw a keychain, offering it to her.

Hinata uncertainly reached out and accepted it, curiously examining the chain.

"Your keys," muttered Gaara. "We were leaving the third floor unlocked for your benefit, but we can't make a habit of it. Another key leads to the roof."

So she had her own key to the roof...? Hinata swallowed. "And the others?"

There was a pause.

"I don't know," said Gaara, still not bothering to look at her.

Hinata nodded, and the two fell into a heavy silence. Gaara was becoming increasingly terse toward her. He was...angry at her. He didn't show it, but she could _feel _it.

"The – rings?" she managed, with the last of her courage. Anything to reverse this, to detract from those faux memories of onyx eyes.

"A lot of people wear rings," Gaara muttered disinterestedly.

Hinata blinked. She had never seen her ring – _their _ring – worn by anyone else. She glanced at Gaara's, still in place on his curled fingers. "What does it mean?" she wanted to know.

"It doesn't mean anything."

He wasn't even trying anymore.

She stood beside him and held the railing. "Have you e-ever felt, t-that your life was on hold?" she inquired, feebly.

His life was over. "No," muttered Gaara, staring with her into the sunset. "And your life isn't on hold. This is how things are."

She didn't understand. "I h-hate Suna."

She loved Suna.

"Then go back to Konoha," Gaara said quietly.

Hinata's breath caught in her throat. Did he mean that? Feeling dazed, she turned to leave.

"You don't usually wear kimono."

And then she froze. She glanced back at Gaara, to see he was watching her again.

"It's nice," her muttered, his cool expression never changing.

Hinata turned to face him, feeling heat rise to her cheeks again. She had initially been uncomfortable in the kimono, with its knee-length skirt and decoratively long sleeves. The low collar, even the bow behind her – it all just wasn't her.

She felt her blush deepen as Gaara approached. She lifted her arm as he raised one her sleeves, idly examining it with his eyes. "Blue," he muttered, dropping the cloth to glance at her obi. "White."

_What..._

"Subconsciously," said Gaara, meeting her eyes. "You were always thinking of him."

_Him..._

Hinata felt her heart race. Sasuke? She had never actually considered it. It didn't make sense! It...didn't.

She felt briefly frightened, and violated, but mostly cold and sick. Her pupils rolled upward, and her knees gave way. Something caught her, and she suspected it was sand.

She, however, missed the way Gaara gathered her in his arms. How she unconsciously wrapped her arms around his neck; buried her head under his chin.

He inhaled.

* * *

Gaara stood against a wall, his arms crossed.

Hinata remembered Sasuke.

Not him.

"Fainting is new for her." He stared blankly down at the recumbent figure on Kabuto's table.

"But I don't think it was unusual of her at twelve," Kabuto responded, jotting down the Hyuuga's blood pressure.

That was right. His wife, a twelve-year-old girl. Gaara said nothing.

"She appears to be fine," mentioned the medic.

"Good," Gaara responded. "You can leave."

Kabuto paused. They were in his office. "Of course, Kazekage-sama," he muttered, offering an understanding smile and bowing out of the room. Gaara's eyes never deviated from Hinata's flushed cheeks.

The door closed with a hollow snap that seemed to emphasize the white, stark environment.

Gaara continued to watch Hinata, her lips parted, her hair splayed around her. To see her reduced to something so weak was disgusting. It was...exhausting.

He moved closer, if just to better examine her face. He leaned over her to glare, scrutinize, to feed his anger and his resolve.

But sometimes those didn't properly coincide.

He leaned yet closer, breathed her in, until he had unintentionally brushed his nose against hers. Lightly, he kissed her on the corner of her mouth, then full on the lips. Like a habit.

Couldn't help it.

He just hadn't expected Hinata to kiss him back.


	10. Chapter 10

"Onna" means "woman" and "otoko" means "man," and yes, I totally stole it from Bulma and Vegeta, and what's not stolen from them, is, of course, stolen from Yu Yu Hakusho, because Yu Yu Hakusho roxs my soxs.

Queen of cliffhangers? I have no idea what you're talking about...? O.o... O.o

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkles's Lady

**Chapter 10**

Hinata awoke with a start.

Her body felt cool and sweaty. Her mouth tasted like...coffee. Stale coffee.

Absently, she licked her lips.

...no milk or sugar.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She was sprawled on her bed, and couldn't recall how she'd gotten there. She glanced out the window. The sky was dark. Was it morning or night?

The Hyuuga climbed out of the bed and ambled toward the bureau. She grasped for the light switch, and a dull white illuminated the room.

Again, her eyes shifted to the window, and she blinked the sleep from her them, examining the sky. No sign of sunrise. It was still night time.

But when had night fallen? How had she even gotten to her room? She glanced down at herself to notice she was still dressed in the kimono.

And she instantly remembered.

Swallowing, she reached behind her and untied the obi encircling her waist. She allowed it to fall to the ground as she slipped her shoulders out of the kimono. The rest of the garment followed the obi, piece by piece, until she was left in her underwear. Hinata stepped out of the small pile of clothes and searched the dresser for something else to wear. She found a drawer full of nightgowns and hastily pulled one on.

Knee length. White. Silky. The sort of thing any girl who was girly might have worn to bed.

She glanced habitually at the purple flower set on the bureau. It was beginning to bother her. After several days perched alone in that vase, and without water, it hadn't withered at all. It hadn't curled, or darkened, or developed any signs of aging. It looked as radiant as it had when Gaara had presented it to her, as though it had been plucked from its soil mere moments prior.

She took to peering at the flower. It had come to taunt her, staring, overlooking, as though it had very well been Gaara's evil intent. She'd notice the flower then think of him.

She reached down and took it carefully between her fingers. The petals were large and bright. She was reminded of Konoha's lush brilliance – and of Gaara – how his hair and eyes contrasted with everything in his environment. Of Naruto's vivacity, expressed in as little as his presence and as much as his _voice. _And Sasuke's-

...Sasuke's...

The flower reminded her of Sasuke's withdrawn beauty. He was something striking and singular, and he couldn't have cared less.

Hinata looked down. She was recovering some of her memory, and ironically enough, she wasn't especially happy about it.

She turned her attention back to the flower, latching to a diversion out of cruel habit. She raised it to her face, deeply breathing.

Mostly, it reminded her of Gaara.

Vaguely, she recalled those childhood fairytales of princesses and beasts. If she plucked the petals, would Gaara randomly combust? Her lip twitched as she teased the concept. It _did_ seem to have supernatural, if not synthetic, properties. She touched the flower to her nose. Sniffed it, then viciously sneezed. One of the petals drifted innocently to the ground.

Hinata paled. _She didn't want to take any chances. _Maybe she was as gullible as Suna was freakish, but if Gaara _did_ randomly combust, she would surely be at fault.

Tucking the flower behind her ear, Hinata glanced at the door. She felt incredibly restless, and saw no hopes of sleep in her near future. Maybe a walk was in order. A bit of fresh air to clear her mind. Maybe it would give her the nerve to confront her developing backstory.

She opened the door and slid into the hall, not bothering to change her clothes again. It was late, and she didn't expect she would bump into anyone. It was surprisingly cool, and Hinata gratefully inhaled then exhaled. Twice. Three times. She walked barefoot down the corridor, trying her best to ignore the darkness. She wandered about, crossing the dining room, and was surprised to find the lights were on in the kitchen. She entered the room, blinking against the brightness. When her eyes refocused, she spotted Kabuto seated at the table stirring a cup of tea. Of all the things she had hoped for or expected...he was the last.

"Y-you l-live here?" she stammered, alarmed.

Kabuto looked up, replacing his spectacles. He paused to identify her, and mentioned, "Well yes. Where did you think I lived?"

Hinata opened and closed her mouth. "I – I never see you in the mornings," she managed, embarrassed.

"I'm not really a breakfast person," Kabuto responded. "Take a seat."

She weakly nodded, her legs carrying her to the table. She took the seat across from Kabuto. If this bothered him, he didn't disclose it, but poured her a cup of tea.

"Tell me," Hinata said weakly.

The medic looked up. "What?"

"Tell me something."

"About...?" he seemed confused, but it was artificial.

"Sasuke," she stated before she could stop herself.

A hint of amusement touched his lips. He delighted in her ignorance just like everyone else. "I forgot you could be this vulnerable," he reflected. "It's really quite adorable."

She felt heat rise to her face.

"But I honestly don't know that much about you and Sasuke. I try to keep to myself. All I can really say is that Sasuke..." he thoughtfully paused, taking a sip of tea. "...is a very important part of your history."

Hinata unconsciously recoiled. He was being intentionally vague.

Kabuto nudged her cup forward. "Drink."

She complied, despite herself. She had previously found comfort alone with someone as stable as Kabuto, but she was quickly learning this stability was fallacious. The tea was practically a prop. Her poise shrunk and shrunk as she watched him stare. Her eyes darted to the tabletop in her discomfiture.

"Are you all right?" Kabuto questioned.

"N...no..."

"You look pale," he mused.

"A-ano..."

"Have you been tired as of late?"

"Isn't this how old people feel?"

Smiling slightly, Kabuto reached across the table and took her chin. Her eyes snapped up to lock with his.

"Twenty-five is old?"

She opened her mouth but couldn't respond.

"You really do need a full check up," Kabuto muttered, finally releasing her. "Stop by my office next time you're free."

She speechlessly watched him gather his props and head for the door. Her gaze again returned to the table. No one seemed to miss her, or the person she had been. She had no friends or family awaiting her recovery, no one supporting her along the way. She was virtually alone – and in Suna. Had she always been such a recluse?

She looked back up at Kabuto's turned back. "Don't go," she said, her voice a whisper.

The kitchen door opened, and Kabuto paused there. Whether or not he had heard her, he continued quietly through it. Hinata stared blankly as the door snapped closed in his wake. Pushing her tea aside and numbly standing, she trudged over to the counter and opened the coffee maker. She stuck in a disposable filter and poured some ground coffee beans over it, before plugging the device in and watching as the tar-colored beverage was brewed. After five minutes, the machine stopped, and Hinata filled a mug. She sniffed it, wrinkled her nose, and lastly took a sip.

"Eugh."

It was both disgusting and appealing. Calming and provoking.

She lowered the mug and turned away from it, instead reaching behind her ear for the purple flower.

She was tired of Gaara, and his invisible hold on her. She wouldn't humor any more of his mind games. He could take back his stupid flower. She was in no position to take responsibility for whatever it meant.

She stomped off, feeling irrationally angry all the sudden. With a determination that might have struck her as unfamiliar, she exited the kitchen then the dining room into the common room. She walked into that slim stairwell-

And quickly recalled how very late it was. She continued on thought the darkness regardless, feeling hurt, confused, betrayed, abused – but she didn't know why. Any which way, she would confront Gaara, and make him listen – just that once!

As she exited the stairs on one of the highest floors, she clutched the flower to her chest, its stem wrapped in both her hands, like it might have been a fading flashlight or just Gaara's lifeline.

She tried to ignore the trembling shadows that followed, the towers occasional stirs, and it's muted grumbles of sound. The place had over a dozen floors. It would have been more frightening to be confronted with silence.

Walking more quickly in her paranoia, she found Gaara's office and slipped inside.

It was just as dark in there as it was outside, but somehow she felt considerably safer.

Hinata slowly looked up. Gaara was not seated behind his desk as she had expected. In fact, he was nowhere in sight. She cringed.

...Because _it was the middle of the night, _and the only reason a Kage _would _be up at such an hour was for missions, attacks, or the occasional pool party.

And Gaara maybe, possibly, _didn't _live in his office. He was probably back on the third floor with everyone else.

Hinata trailed forward, weak-kneed, and mortified. She crept under Gaara's desk if just to hide her shame from the surrounding furniture. Drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, she tried her best to breathe through her anxiety.

She suddenly thought of the herbs. The ones Gaara had said helped with her panic attacks. She climbed to her feet and opened the top right drawer of the desk where she'd seen Gaara initially retrieve them. To her relief, she immediately spotted the jar. Opening it, she brought it to her face, and inhaled. The Hyuuga sunk into Gaara's chair as she did it again and again.

She felt her breathing deepen, and her lungs expand. Her face still buried in the jar, she looked tiredly passed it, down at the open desk drawer and at the numerous diapers stuffed in it. Her lip twitching slightly, Hinata lowered the jar and idly reached into the drawer.

Sayaka probably made an adorable niece.

Beneath the diapers, she found a pile of important-looking papers, and a thick coating of sand. Taken by curiosity, she continued on to the middle drawer, which was filled with more tedious paperwork. Among this, there were hasty mission reports, correspondence letters from other villages, and a healthy number of death threats. Hinata examined a few of the papers, having no difficulty reading them through the darkness. She found one from Kankuro, curt, vague, and even a little impudent. Then one signed _Matsuri, _that was long, tidy, and meticulous. She came across one in a handwriting that was strangely familiar, and spotted her own name. Her eyes widened. Glancing around, she quietly folded the paper and tucked it into her nightie. She then filtered through a dozen more, finding two others that had been signed by her.

In the remaining drawers, Hinata found several stale cookies, a rumpled white hat, a glass slipper, spiders, and a moldy teddy bear. It was as though Gaara didn't know what to do with his space.

Lastly, she withdrew a strip of worn cloth with a patch of metal bolted to it.

Hinata brought it to her face, curiously examining the navy material.

She stared, transfixed with the emblem.

It was...hers.

* * *

She awoke hours later to the sound of the door opening, but was too tired to register it as anything more than background noise. There was a pause, followed by a grunted, "Onna."

"Otoko," she groggily returned. It was habit.

The room filled with light and Hinata unconsciously winced. Lifting her head, she blinked around at the surrounding blurs. She detached a piece of paper from her face and rubbed her eyes until the room came into focus. "G-Gaara?" Hinata belatedly gathered her surroundings. She was still in his office... In his office, on his chair, behind his desk, with all its contests piled on top of it. She blanched.

But the Kage didn't seem especially offended. He simply took a seat on the couch and narrowed his eyes.

"A-an a-a-accident!"

"Un..."

Why was he being so aloof? Did he not care that she'd ravaged his personal belongings? Maybe he was just deliberating between his three menacing attacks. They were all the same, really. Hinata glanced at the window, preparing to dodge a blob of sand.

...It was still dark outside.

"W-what t-time is it?"

"Four AM."

She stared.

"I have paperwork to do," Gaara muttered. "Assuming you haven't destroyed it with your saliva."

Her cheeks burning, Hinata looked down. She noticed a number of purple petals stuck to her hand, and her eyes darted about for the rest of the flower. She eventually located the naked stem, crushed beneath her elbow. She panicked, clutching it. "Gaara, no!"

She turned to the man in question, who seemed slightly caught off by her outburst. She waited a few moments, but nothing happened. "You're okay..." she breathed.

Eying her, Gaara stood and approached the desk. He kneeled down and reached into the pot she had barely noticed at its base, plucking out a flower identical to the last. He offered it to her, and she shyly accepted it, somehow forgetting her previous motive.

"My...favorite?" she managed.

"Aa," Gaara agreed, continuing to stare oddly at her. "You need rest." He reached out, impassively offering his hand, like any other time before. Hinata slowly took it.

And gasped as she was immediately dragged out of the office, through the private staircase, and to the third floor. Gaara hauled her as far as the sleeping quarters before finally releasing her.

Hinata dizzily turned to face him, catching his sleeve as he tried to walk off. He was again not looking at her, crimson hair hanging over his light eyes. She stood there, helpless. He seemed to hate her more with each of their encounters. "G-Gaara-?"

And then he did the last thing she'd expected. He sighed, and turned to face her, watching her with the vaguest hint of obstinacy. Holding her shoulders, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek.

...and at that moment, she knew, without a doubt...

"-Goodnight," Gaara muttered, withdrawing before she could react.

She opened her mouth to return the regard, but could only produce an extraterrestrial squeaking noise.

Gaara swept off, and she could do little more than watch him leave, her blush building.

She didn't know why she cared, why she was so – affected.

She walked off and passed her room twice in her effort to find it, all while trying her best not to walk into any walls. She kept touching her cheek, where it burned, where Gaara's lips had pressed it, gently, lightly, but – she had never been kissed.

Hinata stumbled when she, alas, nearly _did _walk into a wall, then uneasily noticed it wasn't a wall.

But it stood in her way, like a wall, the perfect obstacle she'd been feebly avoiding. Her gaze moved slowly up its form, his slim, muscled frame, his crossed arms, and his messy hair. Light eyes met dark ones, and she suddenly remembered. "...Sasuke."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** As you must have noticed, Lems did a fanart for this story, which can be found linked at the top of my bio. Please be sure to check it out.

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 11**

_As the intervals of daylight grew and grew, Hinata's apprehension grew with it. She knew the forest was thinning. They would be back in Suna within minutes._

_They dropped from the branches and continued forward on foot, Sasuke never once looking back at her. He'd been purposely cold toward her all day._

_Hinata sighed, removing her mask and allowing it to drop to the ground beside her. Her hair too fell free of its bind, spilling around her shoulders. She watched Sasuke cross Suna's first territory line, still ignoring that she had stopped walking._

"_I love you," she called to him for the second time in her life. It was a small, exhausted statement. She swallowed her nerves, and tried again, "I love you, even if you hate me for saying it."_

_Sasuke stopped walking, and glanced back at her. His mask and armor had been previously removed, allowing her to see his eyes – narrowed and dangerous. With his fists clenched, he started back toward her, and she ignored instinct that urged her to get away. "Sasuke, I-"_

_He grabbed her collar, jerked her forward, and suddenly their faces were inches apart. His warm breath pressed her lips, sedating her shock, causing her eyelids to lower._

_Hinata unconsciously grasped his shirt, not wanting to break that precious connection._

_And so began the one thing she would never forget._

_

* * *

_

She stared up at him in the dark corridor, her eyes wide and filled with panic.

Sasuke carefully reached for her hand, her unresisting fingers becoming entangled with his. Cool, calloused, just like she recalled.

"You remember me," he muttered, turning from the ring on her hand to the surprise in her stare. "You remember – me."

She hung there, eyes hypnotized with his more beautiful ones. She allowed her hand to remain clasped in Sasuke's, her body becoming not feeble but relaxed in his grasp. The Uchiha seeped the familiarity she had been searching for.

But the inflection he'd left behind the word "me" implied there might have been someone else.

* * *

The paperwork that necessitated him to be up at four-o'clock in the morning was of the utmost importance.

Gaara pulled out a scroll and spread it over his desk. He paused and stared down at it for a few moments.

Annulment papers.

Not hesitating further, he bit his thumb and marked his initials in one of the two empty boxes at the bottom of the contract. The blood dried then smoldered as though it burned the paper.

One signature. Another to go.

It was a good thing he knew every contour of Hinata's fingers, every jerk of her penning and every curve of her signature. He had considered consulting an example of her writing, but all her mission reports were missing from his desk. It didn't matter. He knew it well enough.

Gaara pulled out a small glass container with a thin coating of blood at the bottom. He had stolen it from the doctor's office, and what Kabuto was doing with vials of his wife's blood was beyond his concern, because at that particular moment, he was incredibly preoccupied with officializing the end of his marriage.

It would be easier once it was done with. He would finally stop deluding himself with that foul concept of hope.

He had not enjoyed kissing Hinata without her knowledge. It had left him feeling like – something depraved. Not a man, but a creature. He could not relate with his Kage title when he was so weak, and dripping with pungent emotion.

The elders could tell something was bothering him. They could see the way his sand filtered around him, restless and keen. People were beginning to talk of his bloodlust returning.

The lust, however, had nothing to do with blood.

Gaara dipped the tip of his pointer finger into the container, soaking it with blood. He then returned to the scroll and illustrated his wife's signature in swift, tidy strokes.

He watched the writing dry and smolder like before – but then it disappeared.

Gaara scowled.

The contract recognized his feign.

* * *

When she awoke, her face pressed to her pillow, she remained there for a while, half-lidded eyes affixed, but to nothing.

She remembered Sasuke. She remembered that she...loved him.

Her cheeks didn't burn. She didn't feel excitement, fear, or relief, just perplexity. How was she supposed to feel? With Sasuke's familiarity came a strange sense of foreboding. And though she remembered him, she couldn't relate to the Hinata she saw in her mind. They didn't share personalities or experiences. Though they were identical, they were completely different people.

Weighted down by reluctance, Hinata climbed to a sitting position, glancing at the kimono she had left on the floor. Her eyes shifted to the bureau, and then the wardrobe, both of which had been unhelpful during her several previous ventures for something to wear.

She turned, finally, to the backpack that had been with her since she had awoken with amnesia. It had been thrown unceremoniously on the ground in a corner of the room. Hinata approached it, kneeling down to remove the worn ANBU uniform. The dark material left her fingertips burning with a strange understanding. She examined the rat-mask, it's violet whiskers. It didn't suit her but it _was _her. She might as well try to get acquainted.

After bathing and drying herself off, Hinata pulled on only the lower levels of the ANBU uniform: black shorts and a sleeveless black turtleneck. Though the outfit was formfitting, and less concealing than the kimono had been, it gave her more freedom and flexibility, addressing her status over her gender.

Just when she was about the leave, there was a knock on the door. She answered it, inhaling.

It was Gaara, but everything was different now.

His arms were crossed over his chest, the hint of irritation upon his brows. He was staring at the ground, but curtly looked up at her, and all his emotions seemed to shift. She watched his eyes move up her attire, to meet hers with that attractive ease she'd seen him offer Naruto. "Hinata."

"U-un?"

And then it disappeared. "Meeting," he muttered, looking tired as he turned away and began walking.

She followed him from her room and down the hall, looking at the ground as Gaara looked ahead. She reached up and grasped his arm, not knowing why, but not caring to explain.

The air heavy with mutual wanting and mutual restraint, the two continued toward the meeting.

* * *

When they reached the meeting room, all the chairs were filled, all except Gaara's, and the one beside it, as though she had always belonged there. Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke were in attendance, as were Temari, Shikamaru, Kankuro, and all the elders. The meeting room was therefore bigger than the one she'd been to before. She felt strange that she and Gaara were again the last to arrive – that all the others, twice, were left to wait for them. If Gaara had given her prior notice, she would have surely arrived more promptly.

She still didn't know why the matter was significant to all these different parties. Couldn't things just have been discussed between her, Gaara, Sakura, and Naruto?

Her deliberate exclusion of Sasuke made him all the harder to forget. She could feel his coal eyes boring into hers from across the table. Unconsciously, she glanced at Gaara, whose hands weren't beneath the table this time, but interlocked above it. She teased the concept of taking them anyway, the idea lingering, then dissolving when she noticed the absence of his ring. She couldn't help but stare.

"Do you want her dead or alive?" Gaara questioned the conference.

Hinata blanched, her eyes snapping up. It was impossible to tell when Gaara was being sarcastic. All around the table she watched the elders grimace, Naruto frown, and Sasuke maintain his apathetic demeanor. Even Temari looked displeased as she rested her face on her knuckles. Hinata's eyes traveled back to Gaara, who never bothered to return the glance.

"This isn't exclusively about the alliance," he muttered, meeting eyes with the one person in the room who held his complete respect. "Hinata's in the bingo book, and is therefore a decent sum of money to my elders."

The expressions of the elders contorted between outrage and guilt, the latter soon outnumbering the former.

"It doesn't matter," Sasuke cut off Naruto's response. "She descends from a unique bloodline. You know the policy."

Hinata looked down at the table. She knew it well. As a member of the Hyuuga clan, it had been drilled into her mind since the day she was able to understand. It was why the Hyuuga clan monitored the main house members and marked the branch. The village's secrets had to be contained.

"And we would prefer her alive," Sasuke muttered, causing Gaara's interlocked hands to clench.

She felt a breeze brush her face, and realized it was a stray wisp of sand, barely visible as it circled the silent Kage. Batting her skin, tugging his clothes, it subtly grew in mass and speed. Gaara knew all her quirks, and she was beginning to learn his. His hands were out of her jurisdiction, so she grabbed the next best thing. His shirt.

The sand stilled, and he seemed to catch himself, but he dismissively pulled her off his clothes. His angry eyes met her concerned ones. Maybe the brief exchange gave Sakura the confidence to speak.

"She's considered an A-class missing nin," the medic intoned gently. "If she just _visited_ Konoha to discuss everything with her clan, I'm sure we'd be able to work something out with Tsunade."

_A-class. _The revelation struck her, but other variables churned in Hinata's mind. If she went back to Konoha, wouldn't her father just mark her with the cursed seal?

Her restless hands found each other, thumbs fidgeting as she tried to determine each party's motive. Sasuke wanted her back, with or without legal backing.

And Gaara...Gaara was reluctant to hand her over.

She peered up at him again, watching him continue to glare at Sasuke.

"Take her," he mentioned softly, causing her breath to hitch in her throat.

She remained frozen, feeling vacant. Dazed.

She wondered if returning to Konoha would be all that bad. Konoha was...home.

"What do _you _want, Hinata?" Naruto finally inquired.

She closed her eyes, hoping to conceal her tears. "I don't know."

* * *

The matter was still up for deliberation. Correspondence was being exchanged between Konoha and Suna. It seemed Konoha was winning.

Hinata inhaled.

No one was contesting their right to take her back. Maybe it was the proper decision, to go back to Konoha – to Sasuke...Naruto, Kiba, Shino, her family – and everything else she loved. Why was the concept so difficult for her? Why was she still searching for reasons not to?

It still felt as though she was missing something important. She needed help – maybe just another perspective. But no one was interested in offering it to her.

She wanted to speak to Gaara, but he obviously didn't want to see her, for he had disappeared to train immediately following the meeting.

Hinata stared up at the ceiling. She lay across the table of an empty meeting room. Though the sky was getting dark, she felt comfortable there. The table's surface, although cool against her skin, somehow appealed to the nerves along her limbs, as though she'd done it several times before.

Sighing, Hinata sat up and climbed off the table. She exited the room, glancing at the time. Ten o'clock. She decided to at least attempt to get some sleep.

The Hyuuga went downstairs, her mind continually turning as she entered the residential floor of the tower. As always, she passed the short hall with the lone door – that curious hall, decorated with the desert flowers.

For the second time, Hinata paused there, peering at the sand pots and purple flowers – bigger and more elaborate than the ones Gaara had given to her. She drifted down the short corridor, approaching the rust-colored door.

Hinata reached into her pocket, her fingers encircling the keychain Gaara had claimed to be hers. She pulled out the small collection of keys, eying each one, and then the lock on the door.

She knew one of the keys gave her entrance to the third floor, and that another allowed her to access the roof. But of the others, she was ignorant and curious.

Choosing one key at a time, Hinata tried them each in the lock. The last one fit, and turned with a _click._

The door creaked open, and Hinata slid inside.

The room was shades of red and black, from the inky ceiling to the silken sheets on the bed. The floor and furniture was dark wood with a beige rug beneath the bed. The walls too were beige, with black paneling. All the dark coloring left her feeling uncomfortably out of place. It was only as she retreated that she noticed-

Everything was hers.

On the bureau she was reunited with the missing photo of her genin team. She held it close, before moving on to the closet. There she found several ANBU uniforms, but also clothes that were white or lavender.

She was acquainted with memories she still couldn't recall – like the photo of an older, more rugged Kiba, holding up a fanged little girl who grinned at the camera.

Her eyes filled with tears. It was all – priceless. And it was all hers. Why had she been kept from these vital memories?

Hastily wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Hinata continued through the dresser, finding more familiar clothes, some with the Hyuuga fan stitched to the sleeve. In the lower drawers, she found stringy things – black, red, and lacy things, belatedly realizing they were underwear. She quickly dropped them, her face catching fire. Why was there lingerie in her dresser?

Her keenness to explore somehow exhausted, Hinata bowed her head, long hair curtaining her face. She deeply breathed, all her fatigue coming back to her at once.

She'd finally found her bedroom.

And although she didn't especially like the color coordination, she was grateful to finally have a place to start – a place where she was sure to find more pieces of her past. She didn't understand why Gaara had kept her from her own bedroom. Maybe he really was manipulating her. But at what benefit? His inconsistencies were slightly alarming.

Raising her head and attempting to shake off her anxiety, Hinata pulled off her turtleneck. Her shorts followed, and were dropped to the floor. She climbed into the bed, which was far larger than the one she'd been sleeping in. She slipped under the sheets and curled up on her side, drowsily noticing the unnecessary second night table, just before she fell asleep.

It was several hours later, when the room was dark and the sky was black, that another key turned in the lock. A new figure entered the room, a larger figure, with heavy footfalls. His head was bowed, his body hunched.

Tired as he was, the man pulled off his cape and climbed into the bed behind Hinata, wrapping her in his arms like he'd done hundreds of times before. It was as though the past week had all been a bad dream. He fell asleep before he could register that it wasn't.

And Hinata sometimes had episodes of what he might have called "lucidity," in which she knew exactly what he was to her. Her voice was cool, not a child's stammer. She was confident, playful, perfect. _Perfect._

She sleepily took his arms, securing them around her waist. "Gaara..."


	12. Chapter 12

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 12**

She awoke, wrapped in sheets, her body pressed against something hard, and soft...warm...human. She wondered if Hanabi had crawled into her bed again during the night. Hinata halfheartedlytried to swat her sibling aside, but her hand connected with something hard.

"Ow..."

The offending object was firm as metal, yet of a grainy texture. Whatever it was, it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Hinata drew back her throbbing hand, reluctantly opening her eyes to assess the damage. Her palm was covered in bits of sand. "...what?" She felt the figure beneath her shift, so she climbed to all fours to peer into Hanabi's face.

_...muscled chest...a man's chest..._

Her eyes trailed up his neck to his face, and she stared as Gaara propped himself onto his elbows. It brought their noses mere inches apart. His eyes were narrowed, his lack of focus suggesting he might not have been fully conscious. For a few long seconds she stared down at the disheveled Kage, and he stared blankly back.

And then she screamed.

Gaara clamped his hand over her mouth, suddenly wide awake.

Hinata's terrified eyes darted widely about the room. It looked warmer in the daylight, but this did nothing for her panic. She saw Gaara's clothes, strewn across the floor, and then the clock. 7AM. Finally, her eyes returned to Gaara, who still hadn't released her mouth. He looked simultaneously cranky and puzzled.

It was her first experience with that sort of situation. It was her first time being naked with a man. Her body felt warm and flushed, strange prickles of sensation burning her skin wherever Gaara's body touched hers. It was her first experience with her own...arousal – and something hard was jabbing her thigh! Her color continuing to build, Gaara finally released her mouth, perhaps expecting her face might explode.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned indifferently, reaching under the sheets and navigating his erection away from her private parts.

"What are you doing in my room!" Hinata cried, her face beet red. She clutched her sheets to her chest, but this just made her sink against his hips.

Gaara released a very uncharacteristic grunt, which turned her blush ten shades deeper. "This is my room," he hissed through his grit teeth.

"This is my room!" she cried back with a resolve that wasn't hers. "These are all my things!"

Silence.

It was the first time she'd seen Gaara hesitate. He opened his mouth, but just glared as though he was lost for words.

And when that numbing instant ended, both scrambled to get away from each other, but their tangled limbs got the better of them. Hinata fell hard into Gaara's chest, raising her face to find it again close to his. One of Gaara's hands had grasped her shoulder, but his eyes were stubborn, betraying no concern. She could feel a brimming panic attack, and all the nudity wasn't helping!

She turned away and tried more keenly to get away, keeping hold of the sheets, and alas, succeeding. She flung herself into the nearest closet, trying to catch her breath.

It wasn't a closet.

It was a bathroom. A large one.

Every surface was crystalline white. The tub went into the ground like a miniature pool. Everything was so posh compared to her fake room, leaving her both amazed and confused. Holding the sheets to her body and dragging them along behind her, Hinata crossed the impeccable bathroom to the sink and splashed her face with water. She opened the medicine cabinet.

There were two toothbrushes, which made her blink. There was feminine body wash, and an electric razor. Sleeping pills. Caffeine pills. Tampons and cologne.

Her heart racing, she slammed the cabinet shut.

Hers...and Gaara's?

Hinata leaned heavily on the sink. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, at her tousled hair and her red-rimmed eyes.

All this – hers and Gaara's!

She sunk to the ground and curled up on the cool tiled floor. She listened for Gaara, but couldn't hear anything beyond the door. _Deep breaths, _she reminded herself. Deep breaths when she was naked, with Gaara, sprawled across their bathroom floor. It seemed like a feasible tactic. Hinata drew and exhaled until her panic attack subsided.

How long had she been lying there? She stared at the wall. She would surely have to leave at some point. What if Gaara came in after her?

Somehow inspired by this mortifying notion, Hinata climbed to her feet and approached the door. She lingered there for a full moment before exiting the bathroom.

Gaara was still there. He stood on the other side of the room, arms crossed, his body facing away from her. He was still nude except for a pair of briefs.

"This room belongs to...both of us?" Hinata meekly addressed the issue at hand.

Gaara didn't respond.

But that just confirmed it.

"So...we were together?" she asked, breathless.

Her heart pounded hard against her chest.

Gaara finally responded, turning just enough for her to see the side of is face. He still didn't meet her eyes. "Once or twice."

Her jaw dropped.

"Maybe a few times," he conceded.

Her face feeling exceedingly hot, Hinata turned for the door. Just as she began to make her exit, Gaara caught her arm.

"Wait."

Idly, Gaara examined her body, her lack of clothes rather distracting him, especially when she was so bad at keeping it to herself. She clutched her sheets now only with her free arm. His eyes returned to her horrified ones.

_Perfect._

"I need you to sign something," Gaara mentioned. His wife was desperate to get away from him. The last thing she wanted to do was sit down and read over paperwork.

Warning her to wait, Gaara went to his night table, pulled out the annulment papers, and returned to the frigid Hyuuga.

Hinata breathed heavily, her eyes on the floor, but they occasionally darted up to Gaara's muscled torso, then to his face, then back to his muscled torso. She hadn't realized he'd been hiding _all that _beneath his various capes and robes. Her eyes traveled down his rigid midsection, along his pelvic bone, then finally to the healthy bulge in the front of his briefs. She didn't know why she was staring. At that moment, she just wanted to implode!

"Here," Gaara muttered, unceremoniously piling a scroll into her arms. It made her efforts to cover herself up all the more difficult.

"U-um-"

And people were coming out of their rooms by then. Shikamaru and Temari eyed them, covering their daughter's face. Naruto choked as Sakura dragged him off. Even Kankuro trailed slowly by, his face donning stark disbelief.

Blood building on her cheeks, Hinata nipped her thumb with her canine and quickly scribbled her initials in the box

Gaara was indicating. She didn't care, even if she'd just signed herself over to slavery! She just wanted to get away!

She almost flashed Gaara when she shoved back the scroll. He was distractedly wiping his nose. She felt dazed and jittery.

...he'd admitted they'd been together...

_Once or twice!_

Her face growing hotter still, she noticed she was still gazing at Gaara's bulge.

He pretended not to notice. "Thank you," he muttered.

Hinata lifted her face. "O-okay."

"Okay."

Gaara watched her. It was his cunning goodbye to their marriage, and it was as though she knew. It felt like minutes that they stood there watching each other in that heavy silence. Hinata cocked her head and parted her lips, as though to inquire-

He slammed the door in her face and leaned on the wall. Sand trickling down his fingers, he raised the contract to his eyes.

Hinata's signature had disappeared.

* * *

"So I heard about your lewd evening," said Kabuto as he examined the scroll from the couch by the desk.

Gaara ignored him, wisps of sand circling him, almost eager to enclose him. Anxiety didn't work well with his abilities, and after that morning, he was decidedly stiff.

He hadn't thought to take Hinata's key to their bedroom. It was a stupid mistake on his part.

And he didn't have nearly as many personal belongings as she did. She hadn't recognized it as someone else's room because he draped himself in her presence.

And it was getting harder...missing her.

Gaara's mind drifted to the Uchiha, and he unconsciously clenched his fists.

"Why didn't it work?" he questioned Kabuto, trying to distract himself from stupid emotions.

"I don't think she can impersonate the woman you married."

Gaara looked up, questioning.

"Her signature is completely different," said Kabuto, standing and returning the scroll. "The contract recognizes her as a different person – which she, arguably, is. I don't think your marriage can be annulled at this point. The Hinata you married doesn't exist."

And yet she did, in a more technical sense. Hinata, a cheap impersonator of someone who was whole. Gaara crumpled the scroll and hissed a curse.

* * *

Hinata entered her room, sinking down and leaning on the door.

Everything about her – encounter – with Gaara had been _off, _from her awaking in his arms, to his defenses even _allowing _her to awake in his arms. The final oddity was in the paper he'd asked her to sign.

She stared at the small wound on her finger.

All Gaara's claims were falling apart.

Hinata straightened, dropping the sheets and feeling exhausted. She watched them pool around her ankles. They were blood red, a beautiful embroidered silk.

She found some slacks and pulled them on, followed by the sleeveless black turtleneck that went with her ANBU uniform. She trailed to the open window and stared out of it, deeply breathing. She needed some air.

Hinata lifted one of her feet to the windowsill, still submerged in her thoughts. Gaara had just told her she'd _slept_ with him, casually_. _Once or twice.

She felt her face burn in humiliation.

So was he suggesting she was some sort of slut? Or was _he _the slut? _Where had she learned the word slut!_

Hinata leapt through the window, dousing herself in cool air.

The evidence suggested he spoke the truth. That they _had _been together.

_Once or twice...maybe a few times..._

But why were all her things in his room! Why had he not elaborated!

_Because we were naked,_ she reminded herself, lungs tight. And it wasn't like they could sit down and discuss it over coffee. She didn't _want _to discuss it! After that, she didn't think she could face him anymore!

Hinata grasped the tower wall, holding on tight. She closed her eyes and found the nerve to release it. She straightened and found herself standing horizontally upon it, again amazed by the strength of her chakra control.

She moved up the tower wall, at first with tentative steps, then falling into a run. She leapt nimbly onto the railing that circled the roof, closing her eyes and forming a reluctant smile. She had yet to explore all the talents her body had to offer.

Something whistled by her ear.

Hinata curiously caught it, unaware that it had taken her all of a split second to do so. She examined a gleaming kunai between her fingers, before dropping it to chop a second, breaking the hilt. This one had been aimed for her heart. Fluidly spinning, she kicked a third from the air.

"You still have your reflex," someone mentioned beside her.

If the assault hadn't startled her, _his _voice had. Losing her balance, Hinata dropped to the roof so no to fall backwards. She met his dark eyes and automatically flushed.

"So you really have amnesia?" Sasuke questioned, not even looking at her.

He hadn't been there a moment before. The man had inhuman speed. His arms crossed, the Uchiha was dressed in slacks and a sleeveless black turtleneck, like hers. From his waist hung a raven mask, and behind his back was a sword.

_We were in ANBU together, _Hinata realized, staring.

"Hyuuga?" Sasuke muttered, looking impatient. He threw her a glance.

Hinata snapped out of her reverie, surprised by the address.

_But Sasuke was Sasuke..._

"I-" she stammered. "I – g-got hurt."

She had the eloquence of a rock, which was to say she hadn't any at all.

Sasuke closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Aa." His brow twitched. "Do you want to spar?"

It was an arbitrary invitation, but one no one else had offered. She couldn't help staring at him. He was the absolute definition of attractive. Approachable but dangerous, and caution just wouldn't do. "Oka-"

She was cut off by an abrupt flash of silver, and instinctively jerked back to avoid the blade of Sasuke's sword. Her back hit the railing, the momentum sending her tumbling over it. Hinata fell through the air, frozen with shock. She stared up towards the roof just in time to see Sasuke jump over the railing. He was coming after her.

_ANBU..._

Hinata caught the wall and planted her feet against it. She began to run, circling the building in search of an open window to dart through. She'd changed her mind. She didn't want to spar anymore!

_The ANBU approached every battle with killing intent..._

But she couldn't keep up. Sasuke was behind her now. She could feel his strange electrical energy cutting through the air. Hinata made the mistake of looking back, nearly falling as she dodged another swipe of his sword. The blade grazed the back of her neck, and she cried out in pain.

_She remembered Sasuke's blade...sword dropping from his hand...fingers dripping blood..._

Several strands of her hair fell through the air, and Sasuke yet pursued the chase. In their wake they left shattered glass and gusts of air, windows exploding beneath the Uchiha's volatile chakra. Hinata hadn't noticed she had activated the byakugan until she used it, finally turning to face him. "HAKKE HASANGEKI!"

A powerful burst of chakra pulsed through the air. Part of the wall was blasted from the sheer magnitude of the attack. Sasuke disappeared, and Hinata didn't wait to see where he'd gone. She broke through a window, rolling onto the ground of an empty lobby, covering herself in cuts. She climbed to her feet just as Sasuke swung into the room after her.

Hinata thrust her palm outward. "Hakke Hasangeki!" she shrieked, again that technique she was not familiar with. It hurled another burst of chakra, causing her arm to fall and her legs to tremble, but Sasuke easily dodged to the perpendicular wall. He moved so swiftly her white eyes could barely perceive it.

He began to approach, looking impassive as ever. "Ready, Hyuuga?" he muttered, as though the spar had not begun. He raised his sword.

Hinata shivered. Sasuke was Gaara's opposite. He wasn't soft on her, but viciously brash. He was helping her...and he was hurting her. But maybe she needed some of his clarity.

"Are you ready?" he repeated.

_She had loved Sasuke..._

Hinata grunted in pain as his sword caught her cheek. She staggered back, further cornering herself. She choked, "I-"

"No."

She hissed as he delivered a cut across her eye. Veins flared on her temples as she clutched her face. Cheeks dripping blood, she lowered her hand and stared up at him. She continued to back away as Sasuke continued to approach.

_She loved Sasuke._

He again raised his sword.

The door suddenly slammed open. Hinata drew a ragged breath, never so relieved to see Gaara.

Sand poured from his gourde and into the air around him, eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. His expression contorted from irritation to lividity as his eyes moved from Sasuke's blade to Hinata's wounds. Hinata stared as his sand formed thick angry tendrils, winding into a twisting vortex.

Sasuke simply watched, jaw clenched as he fell into a new stance, but he had little where to dodge Gaara's growing dominance. Hinata's eyes widened as the sand lunged for Sasuke.

"Don't-!" she cried, her heart choked by fear.

She didn't know what compelled her to run forward, she just knew she had to protect Sasuke – _needed to _– above all else! She slammed into the Uchiha's chest, grasping his arms and ignoring the way his chakra burned her skin. She didn't notice the tears pouring from her eyes.

_Sasuke..._

She looked back at Gaara, whose sand hung in the air inches from her shoulder blades. The Kage wore a blank expression, his sand beginning to erode and rain onto the floor. Panting, she turned to Sasuke again. He looked equally stunned. His lips were parted, almost curious.

He took her chin and tilted her head upwards. She weakly grasped his shirt as he leaned down; and at that moment, she remembered just why he was the man she couldn't forget.


	13. Chapter 13

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 13**

_His lips were dry and paling. Dark circles had developed beneath his eyes. He was beautiful, even lying there, messy hair hanging in his eyes. And those eyes had gradually narrowed, until his lids lowered completely. His eyebrows weren't furrowed like before, but relaxed._

_Seeing Sasuke in such a vulnerable state was outlandish to her. She stared down at his pallid face, wanting to pull his hair aside so she could better observe him._

_Hinata's hands stayed put. From fingers to elbows, she was covered in blood. Her cheeks were smeared with the fluid from the times she'd distractedly wiped her sweat and tears. Her long hair curtained her face as she leaned over him. Feeling dazed and disoriented, she couldn't tell whether she was helping or hurting him. She panted, her anxiety making it difficult for her lungs to keep up._

_The harder Sasuke's heart beat, the harder he bled. Good thing it was slowing._

_Bad thing it was slowing._

_It was late afternoon, and she was knelt beside him in the forest. They were not in a clearing of any degree, but hidden within the endless clutter of trees. Light dripped like raindrops as wind blew and leaves quivered. The shadows that draped them were steadily darkening. Conveniently enough, she didn't like the dark._

_She wanted to lean down, to kiss him, remind him she was _with _him – but her arms were shaking. She couldn't trust her hands, and didn't want to compromise the already perilous situation._

_Hinata was ambivalent about which was more important. The wound was the cause of his weakening heart. But if his heart stopped, he would die. If she released the wound, his heart would stop. She occupied her mind with this silly cycle._

_It had only been a cut – one that had far missed his heart. It wasn't a significant wound compared to several of his previous injuries. Sasuke had been fine – for a few moments._

_But he hadn't stopped bleeding. His aorta had been grazed. She'd helped him to the ground, watching scarlet stains spread over his clothes._

"_Reckless," she whispered to him, pressing the wound harder. Missions were games to him, because he was strong. Everyone else was weak. Sasuke was reckless, and for a while she had played along._

_Stubborn tears dripped from her cheeks. She didn't dare wipe them again, and was grateful Sasuke couldn't hear her cry. She didn't know what to do._

_Her byakugan was activated, and for the past few moments she had watched his chakra weaken, flicker, and withdraw from his limbs. As seconds turned to minutes, it receded to his core, and she could do nothing but stare. The Uchiha exhaled, but didn't draw again._

"_Sasuke," she murmured, momentarily stunned. "Sasuke!"_

_She felt his heart stop, but continued to hold the wound, her intakes mounting until she could barely breathe._

"_No!"_

_She sent a surge of chakra through his chest, but it proved to do nothing. Teeth grit, she did it again and again._

No blood, no heart beat.

_But she persisted, until she bruised his chest and burned his lungs. She tried more, with keener assaults._

"_You're not dead!" she told him, even though she was alone. "Sasuke!" He couldn't die! He was all she had!_

_Gasping for breath, Hinata looked up when she heard rustles in the leaves. Several masked figures dropped from the trees._

_The reinforcements._

_One knelt down beside her, his hands glowing with green chakra. They hovered over Sasuke's chest. Hinata withdrew hers._

"_He's alive," Kabuto muttered. "Just barely."_

"_Me too," she whispered._

* * *

Hinata turned away before Sasuke's lips could connect with hers. She covered her mouth, tears burning the cuts on her face. Sasuke grabbed her shoulder, but she pulled away.

Those memories didn't seep gently in, but assaulted her mind. They were viciously important, yet all she wanted was to forget them again. She couldn't handle anymore of the flashbacks Sasuke's presence entailed.

She could still feel his blood on her hands. She could remember the sensation of his heart stalling beneath her fingertips.

Sasuke was emotional, unlike Gaara. _Aggressive, _unlike Gaara.

Her eyes drifted to his sword.

_Reckless._

She remembered the nights she'd peer down at him sleeping, counting each of his draws, each of his exhalations. She remembered deliberating all the ways he'd get himself killed next time. She remembered her complaints. His dismissals. It was just a game, that silly cycle. She slowly remembered all the things Sasuke was and Gaara was not.

Hinata hugged herself, her breathing growing shallow. Her hand slid to her chest, where her heart felt like it might burst. She needed to get away. Just needed to breathe.

Not knowing where else to retreat, Hinata ran to the window, the world spinning around her. Just as she leapt off the frame, someone caught her around the waist, roughly stealing her from the air. She was jerked back into the room; scooped into his arms.

And it was as though she'd breached the water's surface after being submerged for an eternity.

She latched her arms around Gaara's neck as he pulled her against his chest. She inhaled his familiar cents and clung to those familiar fabrics, always so _déjà vu_, always provoking each of her senses. She sobbed into the Kage's clothes, wondering why he elected to put up with her.

She didn't know how long he held her like that, but felt him turn, walking towards the door with her still gathered in his arms. Hinata lifted her face enough to see Sasuke staring hard at her, his jaw clenched as they went. In the Uchiha's eyes was a reluctance, an understanding of something she still couldn't discern.

The door closed behind them. She lowered her head and held Gaara tighter.

She could hear the chattering of people along the corridor, but everything became still as the Kage walked passed. In their wake, Hinata could see people staring. She must have looked horrible there, crying in Gaara's arms, covered in cuts.

"You don't have to carry me," she managed as they continued down the hall. "I – I can walk." Gaara ignored her, continuing through the tower. She closed her eyes despite herself, basking in the inexplicable comfort of his hold. She drifted in and out until she heard a new door open a few minutes later. Gaara stopped walking and Hinata raised her head.

Gaara had brought her to Kabuto's office. The medic in question was holding a chart. "What happened?" he inquired as Gaara lowered her to a table.

Hinata stiffened, feeling incredibly helpless. "A – spar," she choked out, her voice breaking and her sobs starting up again.

She allowed Kabuto to help her recline, looking from his inquisitive expression to Gaara's solemn one. She watched the Kage grit his teeth, and couldn't help staring.

_Concern._

Her eyelids grew heavy. She felt someone take her hand, but she must have been dreaming.

_Feather-light strokes along her knuckles._

"She's hyperventilating," Gaara muttered.

"I noticed," responded Kabuto, lowering an oxygen mask to her face. "Hinata, _breathe_."

On the contrary, she fainted.

* * *

When she awoke, they were gone. So were her injuries.

Hinata sat up, blinking the fatigue from her eyes. The office was dark, and all was still except for the figure seated in the chair beside her.

She turned slightly, just to confirm the person was who she thought it was. Hinata drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. She lowered her face, feeling exhausted. She closed her eyes, her cheeks warm despite the emotional hell she'd been through in the past few hours.

She had never been kissed...well, not any times she could recall. She didn't know why, but she couldn't let Sasuke have her first. She hoped he didn't try to do it again. "I was so scared of losing you," she managed.

Sasuke glanced up from where he'd been picking his fingernails with a kunai. "Lured by Gaara's ultimate defense..."

_Lured by his calm. His stability..._

"To end what we had because of your own paranoia..."

"It ended a long time ago," Hinata cut in, slightly surprised with herself. She turned her head to stare at him through the darkness.

Sasuke seemed wholly invested in cleaning his nails, a little more keenly, now. "Gaara's the Kazekage. He died once already."

_It was why she was his protector..._

"He's insane."

He was pure sanity.

"Useless...bureaucrat..."

Why was he complaining about Gaara? Gaara wasn't a variation, he was a completely different person. And what did Gaara have to do with anything?

"You value success over your own life," Hinata mumbled, burying her face in her knees. "You demonstrated that today – and I c-can't bear to lose you. I c-can't – stand you!"

She yelled it at the wall, uncurling her limbs and clenching her fists. She breathed heavily – deep, wonderful breaths, and was unwilling to look back at the Uchiha.

"That's exactly what you said to me then," he muttered, causing her to blink. "You haven't changed at all."

* * *

She ambled back to the third floor, one hand holding her skull, the other, the wall. She didn't feel well. Rather, she felt dizzy and nauseous. As disoriented as she was, she never expected she'd _really _make it back to her room, but was relieved to notice she had reached the bedrooms. She turned the corner into her hall-

And froze, paling at her unpleasant surprise.

Naruto had always been a healthy medium for her. He was warm, caring, and friendly. He always made her feel confident in spite of all else

But her confidence shrunk as she stared upon the scene, and upon Naruto, so...so wrapped in Sakura, so intimate, so obsessed...

The two were kissing against the wall right by her door. They were so absorbed in the task at hand, one would think they hadn't each other in months. Neither noticed her, and Hinata began to back away.

She felt embarrassed, disheartened...deflated, and she didn't know why. Her breath hitched in her throat when Naruto opened his eyes.

Upon spotting her, the blonde's eyes widened. He pulled away from Sakura, staring at the Hyuuga's ashen completion. "Hinata-?"

But Hinata spun on her heel and marched off before either of them could stop her. She ran back into the staircase, closing the door tightly, before hurrying along the steps. She ran higher, higher, exited, then went higher.

When she finally reached the heavy door to the roof, she pulled out her keys, watching them rattle in her grasp. She pushed herself onto the roof, breaking free of the building, and took a gasp of the warm desert air.

Her whole body was flushed in mortification. She quickly sat on the ground, trying to cool down. Flustered and sweating, Hinata stared vacantly into the sunset.

The whole – _kissing _– thing was new to her. They were kids. What was Naruto's hand doing on Sakura's-

_They were adults._

Swallowing, Hinata continued to stare blankly into the sky. It was only then that she realized she was happy for the goofy blonde. Her blush deepened as her thoughts eluded her grasp.

...why was she so smitten for crazed villains?

"Ne, Hinata-chan," someone complained beside her.

She jumped. "N-Naruto..." She turned to notice he was seated right next to her. Naruto was wearing an uncharacteristic smirk. He idly drew up one of his legs.

How long had he been there? How did everyone manage to sneak up on her! Her cheeks burning, Hinata looked down. She desperately wanted to apologize, but didn't know how to.

She felt Naruto watching her for a while, and wondered what he was doing with her on the roof, when he could be with Sakura, kissing in the corridor.

"So he still hasn't told you..." she blonde mused. He chuckled darkly. Hinata froze as Naruto leaned close to her. So very _close, _in fact, that his breath tickled her ear, as he whispered, "You and Gaara – you're married."


	14. Chapter 14

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 14**

She looked over the mission reports she had taken from his desk, each signed with her name at the bottom. One was dated a few years back, the writing professional and detached, just the way she had been trained to write them.

The second report was several months old, and the language was...different. Maybe a little more familiar. Sometimes she'd added unnecessary information, or mentioned things irrelevant to the mission. Hinata felt herself blush. It was more like a letter than a mission report.

She quickly turned to the last one, which was only a few weeks old. Her eyes widened. It was from her last mission! Hinata read it over. With each mission report, she was finding glimmers of herself, and was stunned by her confidence and personality.

But this report was haste. Tired – but affectionate. And the way she had signed it wasn't even discreet.

_I miss you._

Hinata lowered the papers to her lap. She was sitting against a wall in the corner of her room. She felt somehow hot, yet cold. Parched. Sweaty. Her limbs were stiff, but trembled, and she suspected she was approaching a massive anxiety attack. After a while, she dropped to her side, curled on the floor in a fetal position.

It didn't make sense. Gaara didn't even like her. Someone would have mentioned-

But only their comrades had been notified of her amnesia. It wouldn't make sense for anyone else to inform her she and Gaara were married. Did that mean Shikamaru, Kankuro, and Temari had purposely kept it secret from her?

But that was insane! The whole concept was insane! This handsome future Naruto clearly, too, was insane!

The fact that she could hear him having sex in the next room did rather damage his credibility. Hinata buried her face in a throw cushion.

She could just – _ask_ – Gaara, the _Kazekage, _that was. But wouldn't that be brazen of her? Crazy, even? And if he _was _keeping it from her, why would he answer her with candor _this time_? In fact, he had been deliberately vague, manipulative, and dishonest with her throughout her entire stay in Suna!

Hinata paled.

It somehow fed Naruto's claim.

She again raised the throw pillow, attempting to suffocate herself with it, and began to catalogue everything that _made sense_ about Naruto's allegation.

The fact that Gaara had accompanied her to doctor's appointments, at which Kabuto freely indulged him with her personal medical information. The fact that Gaara knew everything about her – things she didn't even know herself, like that she treated her panic attacks with baths and herbs, and that she had a habit of hyperventilating. He'd mentioned those purple desert flowers were her favorites, and she'd duly come to adore them. He knew that her last brain scan had been "seven months ago" – right off the top of his head! Gaara could distinguish her pre-amnesia handwriting from her post-amnesia handwriting, and he could answer her questions before they were even vocalized. He spoke her name with such a familiarity, it stunned her, and he had taken her hand on several occasions, like it wasn't unusual, but habit.

There was the alarming fact that most of her belongings were in Gaara's bedroom, and he'd admitted they'd had...sex before.

Gaara had kissed her cheek – like it was relevant – like it could possibly fit with any of his facades – like he'd do it to anyone else, but he'd done it only to her, so it wasn't just an afterthought! It was – important...

And he wore a ring just like hers.

Hinata swallowed, more evidence seeping through her feeble barriers.

She had noticed the times his sand treated her discriminatorily. Whether or not Gaara was paying attention, it always seemed to let her through. The sand had allowed her to grab his arm on several impulsive occasions...and to lie against him while he was sleeping. It had stopped a split second from impaling her, and subsequently eroded seconds later, as though that moment of staggering control had just been superficial.

And finally, there was her own – physical – familiarity with Gaara – the feelings he stirred in her chest whenever he was around, the sensation of his hand against hers – things that struck her as familiar, but only perplexed her more.

And as she compiled it all, piece by piece, it seemed to produce a simple enough equation.

She closed her eyes.

Had Gaara really been withholding the truth? No. At least not ambitiously. It felt suspiciously like she'd just been...in denial.

He hadn't denied her. She had denied him.

Naruto had spelled it out for her, but hadn't Gaara done so as well? Hadn't he arguably been even _more_ blatant than the blonde.

But Gaara was meticulous. He wasn't going to push her when she was so fragile as it was.

It was only then that Hinata realized she was beginning to believe.

She climbed off the floor, her limbs feeling like lead. She trailed to the bureau, arms wrapped around herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She then dropped her head, feeling increasingly exhausted.

Her and Gaara...married.

The concept wasn't as horrifying as she'd initially thought. Her face was hot, her heart racing, but not in fear or panic. Hinata pulled a silk robe over her night dress. It was knee-length like her nightgown, but it covered her bare arms and shoulders with decoratively long sleeves. Not caring to put on shoes, Hinata walked to the door. Her insecurity constantly hampered her, but she had to push through it. She had to confront him – had to know the definitive truth-

But just outside her door she met two elders in the dark corridor. She blinked up at them.

"Your request to remain in Suna has been submitted, and declined by the Hyuuga clan," the man rehearsed – the one elder who stood up to Gaara. "Declined by the Hokage," he continued. "Declined by the Kazekage-"

"But-"

"It's time to go home, Hyuuga-san."

She stared vacantly back at him.

"You have until morning to pack."

She had _nothing _to pack. She had to see Gaara. Hinata pushed passed them, and ran to that room she couldn't identify as his or theirs. She fumbled anxiously with her keys for a moment, before finding the one that fit in the lock. She turned it.

But the key did not move. Hinata blinked, staring down at the lock. It was slippery smooth and gleamed in the darkness, as though it had been changed recently. Her jaw clenching, Hinata activated the byakugan and peered through the door.

Gaara was not there. The bed looked as though it hadn't even been slept in. She turned as she heard footsteps passing the corridor. She stared blankly at Shikamaru and Temari, both who were still in their uniforms.

"Gaara left to train," Temari said.

Hinata looked down, listless and mortified. He had stopped fighting for her. He wasn't even going to say goodbye.

"Hinata..." Shikamaru trailed off.

But she didn't look up, one of her hands on the door and the other hanging at her side. Hair curtained her face, hiding the couple from view, and she waited until she heard the sound of them leaving.

Instead of returning to her room, Hinata walked to the opening of the third floor. She moved along the walls before choosing one that faced the door. She sunk down it and drew up her knees to wrap her arms around them. As the minutes wore on...then dozens of minutes...then hours...and hours...her eyelids grew heavy. Her head drifted downwards, but she consistently caught herself. She was flushed, but not in melancholy.

Mostly just in irritation.

She glared at the door, promising herself she'd catch him before she left, and take well advantage of her sand immunity – of how his skills were just clumsy when she was around. Chakra flickered about her fingers as she continued to wait, and even as the sun rose, her eyes did not deviate from that door. He would come. She knew he would.

Hinata jerked slightly when the lights turned on. She watched Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura exit the corridor from the guestrooms, dressed in their scrolls and backpacks. Sakura was carrying an extra one. Hers.

Hinata's eyes shifted to Sasuke's indifferent expression. She searched for triumph or pity, but the Uchiha could not be read.

"Hinata..." started Naruto.

She looked back down at her knees, not knowing what to do. Would she leave as Hyuuga Hinata or as a missing nin? Either way, they would take her back, with or without her consent. They were strong, and she was...she didn't know what she was.

Hinata blinked when she heard the entrance door open, and looked up as Gaara entered the room. Climbing to her feet, she ran to him, stopping inches short of him. She stared up into his face. He looked weary, and a little displeased. It took him a moment to meet her eyes.

Hinata bit her mouth. "Are you-?"

"I'm fine."

She stood there, breathing, very aware of their audience. She opened and closed her mouth, blushed, and tried again. "I-"

Gaara had taken to watching her closely, like he always did, surrendering his thorough attention to her. He examined her, dissected her, _scrutinized_ her like he might an opponent. His reluctance twisted into a challenge. She grabbed the front of his clothes. "I-"

But she felt the others approaching, and her anxiety building.

Gaara simply waited, as though he was giving her that hundredth chance. She loved the way his crimson hair hung above his light eyes.

But she wasn't his wife. She was just a fraught little girl. She wasn't the woman who had written those letters, lined with subtle flirtations and hidden professions.

"I miss you," she managed, letting him go. Lips parting, Gaara simply watched as she bowed her head and hurried through the door. Team seven followed.

* * *

"Oh c'mon, cheer up," said Naruto from across the fire that evening. "Think about it. You'll get to see your family again."

Family...wasn't Gaara family?

Naruto and Sakura were fruitlessly trying to highlight the perks of her returning to Konoha. Hinata stared blankly into the flames.

"The forest," said Sakura. "The breathable air."

"Kiba's little girl," Naruto added.

Hinata looked up. This one actually got to her.

"You could do to train with other Hyuugas," Sasuke muttered.

She turned her attention to the Uchiha.

"Your chakra control has declined."

Hinata looked down at her hands. She could run along the walls without even thinking about it. But he said she had declined? She recalled herself fumbling for techniques during their spar. "I can barely use it," she admitted, remembering how exhausted she had become following the one technique she had managed.

"You waste it," Sasuke said, ignoring Naruto and Sakura's disapproving looks. "You broke all the windows on the eighth floor."

Hinata's lips parted. Broken windows? The ones that had burst beneath that volatile chakra? "I thought –" she paused. "Ano, wasn't that-"

"No Hyuuga," interrupted Sasuke. "That was you."

* * *

Hinata curled on her mat that night. She had somehow ended up lying between Naruto and Sasuke in the tent. She tossed and squirmed, turning from one cute boy to the other, blushing, then blushing more.

_She was such a twelve-year-old..._

But none of this was real. She was falling back into silly games and silly crushes. Her comrades did missions for work and missions in their leisure. Everything seemed dull, routine – trivial, even. The scenery had aged, but was unnaturally familiar. She suspected she knew her way back to Konoha with or without her captors.

She wondered if Gaara would be annoyed if he saw her right then. He'd probably just eye her. Maybe she'd get a twitch of his cheek.

She smiled slightly. She hadn't even been with him, yet couldn't get over him, couldn't stop thinking of him...

-and what an adorable husband he'd probably made. His coffee, his monotony, and his miscellaneous collection of personal effects. He wasn't scary as she'd initially determined. He was just...strange.

Hinata laid back and pulled her sheets to her nose.

Back in Konoha her father would mark her with the Hyuuga cursed seal, determined to contain the Hyuuga clan. And who was she to protest? They were meant to be contained. Tsunade, too, would condone this, wanting to preserve the village secrets. Hinata had never registered the sacrifices of being born into a hidden village.

But she missed her friends, her sensei, her little sister-

She missed Gaara too.

The concept of being married was still shocking to her, but she had slowly shifted from apprehension to curiosity, maybe a reluctant, growing excitement.

She had gotten married. She, who had thought she would always be alone. She, who never expected anyone would want her.

But Gaara didn't want her. Not anymore. He deserved better than what had become of her.

And it was so...stupid. It – wasn't her fault.

Her hand slid to her chest, feeling her erratic heartbeats. It was like she'd lost someone precious to her, but he was only a few miles away.

And yet he was so completely out of her reach.

She wanted to know more about her relationship with Gaara. Had it been nice? Had they struggled? Was there an ulterior motive behind him letting her go? Had there been doubts during their marriage that could have reinforced his surrender? Or was it just the opposite, his resolve declining the way her health had? Had he grown weary of constantly fighting for her while she failed to even recognize him?

She wanted to know the truth, and she wanted to see Gaara again someday, but returning to Konoha would destroy any potential for that.

Hinata closed her eyes.

She didn't want to go.

But was she prepared for the penalties of that decision? Being a rogue, A-class, missing nin? Moving up in the bingo book – being hunted by her comrades – and just for the precarious potential of seeing Gaara in the future?

She turned again to the side, gazing at Naruto's rugged features.

Yes.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** There will be one or two more chapters following this one. Thank you so much for your patience. I am definitely undeserving of it.

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 15**

Everything suddenly felt mundane.

But he'd become Kazekage without Hinata. He had found the definitive purpose far before they'd even met.

Over recent years, he realized, his priorities had subtly shifted. He had come to associate his wife with purpose. His status had become his rightful setting. Protecting the village, his precious occupation, but Hinata was...everything else.

He sat in a meeting room, face against his knuckles. All around him people spoke, but the words were just sounds, enclosing him rather than reaching him. He stared down at a pile of papers, but only as a place to set his eyes. He didn't pay the text any mind.

_I miss you, _Hinata had said.

'I miss you' implied there was something to be missed. That she taunted him with the implausible prospect of her remembering something. He furrowed his brows.

* * *

"I'm going to the lake – to c-clean up," Hinata said that morning, evading the word "bathe" like a dorky twelve-year-old.

"Oh, I'll come with you," said Sakura as she and Naruto finished packing up the tent.

Hinata contained her dismay with a smile. "Thank you Sakura-san. I d-don't know h-how to swim."

"You're a water element." Naruto grinned.

She blinked.

"Let's go," said Sakura, already beginning to undress right in front of Naruto and Sasuke, as though they didn't count as men. Both boys glanced away, looking awkward. Hinata couldn't help but stare at Sakura's penguin-printed panties.

The lake was just off from camp, beyond a small clutter of brush, but Sakura seemed unconcerned with the presence of the boys – one, her brother, and the other, her lover.

Hinata was slightly more paranoid. "Ano, Sakura-san, do you mind if we take turns?" She heard someone snort a few yards off, and didn't want to contemplate who it was.

Sakura sighed. "You know I can't let you out of my sight, Hinata."

Sakura was an ANBU specialist above all else. She didn't make exceptions for anyone.

Blankly nodding, Hinata began to undress, reddening more with each article of clothing she doffed. When she was naked, she followed Sakura into the lake. She remained close enough to the bank that the water was shallow enough for her feet to touch the ground.

"See, this isn't so bad," said Sakura, swimming about the lake. "We both have the same parts – well, in different proportions." She grinned.

Her face burning, Hinata lowered herself deeper into the water, until her mouth and nose were submerged. "Un," she said, her voice distorted by bubbles.

Sakura turned her head, smiling back to her, only to notice that Hinata had disappeared.

* * *

Hinata sunk to the floor of the lake, holding her nose and crouching down in the mud, her hair floating above her. She'd known how to swim for longer than she could remember. She'd known how to use her element for potentially longer than that.

"Hinata!" she heard Sakura call, her voice muffled by the mass between them.

The Hyuuga drifted to the other side of the lake where Sakura wasn't likely to search for her. Just as she heard the other kunoichi dive, she broke the water's surface, gasping for breath. She swung her hair behind her, where it slapped against her back, before struggling out of the muddy shallows, ki pouring from her tenketsu to dry her skin. She'd never known how to use her chakra so aptly, and was continuously surprised by the hidden talents her body revealed.

Hinata's hair remained drenched, bangs slicked back with the rest of the tresses. Brushing stray strands away from her face, she ran to the backpacks strewn by the shore. Tearing through them, she hurriedly located some clothing.

Her ANBU uniform had been taken from her, so she pulled on one of Sakura's. The apparel would help to ward off anyone searching for her. Lastly grabbing Sakura's mask, Hinata began to run in the direction opposite from camp. She didn't notice as veins flared on her temples in her keenness.

Someone caught her shoulder. "Hinata-"

Swiftly turning, she thrust her palm into Naruto's chest-

Watched his eyes open wide. Felt his heart jerk beneath her fingertips.

-and stared as he choked, collapsing to the ground. Hinata raised her hand to her eyes, stunned.

But she had no time to regret, to hesitate, to panic. Her heart pounding, she dropped her hand and began to run toward the woods. Just as she flew into its thick maze of concealment, someone grabbed her by the hair. Hinata cried out in pain as she was jerked backwards. Prickles of electricity burned her skin.

Sasuke.

She squeezed her eyes closed, frustrated that they were watering. "Sasuke, she cried. "You have to understand! You have to-!"

"Let's go," he muttered, releasing her hair to grab her arm.

Palm out, she aimed for Sasuke's abdomen, but he easily blocked. He released her arm, curiosity overwhelming duty. Hinata again attempted to strike him with the jyuuken, and Sasuke duly blocked. With his sharingan, he could predict her moves before she even made them. He ignored the bruises that blossomed on his body wherever his arms connected with her white chakra. He was immune to her efforts.

"HAKKE HASENGEKI!" Hinata shouted.

Sasuke expertly dodged the wave of chakra she sent his way. The attack did, however, create distance between them. She turned and ran, disappearing into the trees. She felt Sasuke's piercing eyes on her back. He didn't take chase, and she didn't hesitate.

Hinata took to the trees, jumping from branch to branch, and never looking back. She didn't know where she was going, but at that moment, she didn't care. She ignored her damp hair, and the way the branches nipped at her skin. She moved to higher branches, deactivating the byakugan when she was confident she wasn't being pursued.

She had to admit she didn't mind the forest's darkness and secrecy. Despite it's forebodingness, she had grown up with it. She missed the Hidden Village of Leaf despite her efforts to escape it.

As Hinata leapt to her latest branch, someone grabbed her ankle. Her eyes widening, she snatched for the branch, but it slipped out of her reach. Hinata looked down into the darkness for her assailant, but there was no one in sight. She gasped as she was jerked roughly downwards and out of the air. She struggled for freedom, but her capturer was too strong and too fast. Her heart pounding, she braced for impact with the earth-

But she crashed through it, as though it was air or water. As though it had parted specifically for her entrance.

Hinata collapsed to her side with a grunt against a heap of soft earth. Opening her eyes, she climbed onto all fours. She had re-emerged in what had to be an air-pocket several feet beneath the ground. She tried to catch her breath feeling claustrophobic, her fingers sinking into the gritty earth around her. Her surroundings were purely black, and there was no sign of the entrance she'd made. Sinking onto her heels, Hinata clumsily formed hand seals she was only vaguely familiar with. "Kaen."

A small flame materialized in the palm of her hand, illuminating her surroundings. Hinata gasped, jumping back, and nearly extinguishing it just as quickly. She stared at the dark figure across from her, also knelt on the ground.

He reached out and took her precarious flame. He held it in his palm and she watched it grow.

Gaara.

They were only one or two feet apart. Through the flame Gaara held, she could make out the shape of their dark confinement. It was a sphere, just large enough for both of them to be seated; her perched on her heels, and Gaara against the wall, one of his legs drawn, and one of his hands held before him attending to the flame. She stared at him. Though his expression was indifferent, she suspected he wasn't impressed with her shenanigans. All was silent for a while except for her shallow breathing.

Was he interfering with her transport? Her limbs shook. She held herself from launching herself at him.

Instead she stared at his skin, beige in the shadows. And his features, each that should have been sharp and distinct, but instead seemed rough and grainy. Eyes widening, she came to realized it wasn't Gaara. It was a clone. Just a messenger.

But the clone held her eyes the way Gaara did, and in Gaara's voice, he placed one important query-

"What do you miss?"

Hinata stared at him.

Two gloved fists suddenly shot into the earth, grabbing hold of her shoulders. Hinata gasped as she was jerked back above ground, covered in sand, and faced with a peeved-looking Sakura. She looked back as she was dragged away, but there was no further sign of Gaara's influence.

* * *

In the days that followed, Hinata fell ill.

Most of her time was spent with her hands tied together, palms pressed to each other, and arm bruised from Sakura's continuous grip as they travelled.

Her peers took shifts watching her at night, Sakura, wary, Naruto, with sympathy, and Sasuke with apathy – but he tied her hands with the most care of her captors, in the meantime peering at her pallid complexion.

Soon she started throwing up.

Gaara had given her one more chance, and she had messed it up, as usual. She hadn't been able to answer his question. She had said that she'd missed him, but was this even an authentic claim? She didn't even remember him. So what did she miss? She didn't know! _Everything!_

Her stride became an unsteady wander. She felt drained, dizzy, nauseous.

The evening before they were due to arrive in Konoha, Sakura took pity on her. Outside of their tent, she pressed her palm to Hinata's warm forehead, her hand growing green on her temple. Her hand then shifted to her abdomen.

Hinata closed her eyes, unaware as Sakura's widened.

It was her fault she was sick. Her fault for getting amnesia – for losing her husband. For becoming weak. The weight of her failings was finally making her physically ill.

"We have to take her back," said Sakura, and Hinata opened her eyes.

* * *

A few days later, Hinata stared at her wall.

She had refused to go back to Suna, and instead insisted on returning to Konoha with Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura.

Sasuke had raised his brow and declared her fickle.

She curled on her side. She was in bed – her old bed, in her old room, at the Hyuuga house, in the Leaf village. It wasn't very late, but she didn't feel like moving.

Her face was pale, her skin, gritty. She didn't know what would happen to her. She wanted to see Gaara. She just didn't know what she would say to him. Would they send word to him? She wasn't ready for that yet. She tried to breathe through her anxiety.

She hadn't told any of her family members. Her father had announced she would be marked in a few days time. She felt nervous. And she kind of had to pee.

Hinata reluctantly climbed out of bed and crept to her bedroom door. She opened it enough to poke her head through it. Confirming that no one was out in the hall, she slipped out of the room, and froze.

She heard the sound of laughter coming from around the corner. Her sister, and that teammate she was always with – Konohamaru. Hinata quickly slipped back into her bedroom and closed the door, just in time to hear two pairs of feet padding down the corridor.

At twenty, Hanabi was a completely different person from who Hinata remembered. She donned the confidence and tact befitting of her title as clan head.

Hinata smoldered. She felt pathetic. She couldn't even confront her own sister. It was as though she was in Suna all over again.

She hadn't spoken to Hanabi, except for the formal greetings they had exchanged upon Hinata's arrival. Their father was present with his artificial welcoming. Hanabi, meanwhile, wore that crooked smile, like Temari's, as if to say _I know something you don't know._

Hinata suspected Hanabi knew _a lot of things _she didn't.

Hinata approached and opened her bedroom window, to be immediately encased in the cool night air. It doused her anxiety and cooled her burning skin. Hinata climbed out the window, knowing of a place where she was likely to be left alone and unseen.

She climbed along the walls and pulled herself onto the roof, to reluctantly smile up at the starry evening sky.

She wore a loose white gown that framed her form and went just past her knees. Long raven hair fell around her shoulders and down her back. It hung in her eyes, where, at times, she could mercifully bow her head and avoid the world. Hinata sat down on the roof and reclined under the sky. She tried to relax, to breathe in and out. _Everything's going to be okay,_ she lied to herself, struggling. _Everything will be-_

"Are you okay?" someone deadpanned.

Hinata abruptly sat up, to be rewarded with a wave of dizziness. She turned to her left to spot the source of the voice. The man beside her dropped to the roof from a cloud of sand. The sand lazily filtered into the gourde on his back. She examined his pale skin. It wasn't a clone.

He had come...all this way? She drew up her knees to wrap her arms around them, feeling her breathing quicken in her relief and panic.

Gaara failed to notice her ambivalent state. He was looking ahead at the Hokage tower in the distance. "Sakura sent word that you're unwell," he said.

Hinata blinked. "That's not true," she said, heat rising to her cheeks. "I- I'm fine." She didn't sound very convincing.

Gaara finally turned to face her. She was surprised by how pained he looked. She must have been decadence embodied to him. His personal landslide of unwellness. Had it always been so obvious that he cared about her?

"Sakura is an esteemed medical ninja," Gaara said, removing his gourd, and lowering it to the roof. He took a seat beside her, lowering her feeble defenses. "She wouldn't waste my time." His inquisitive eyes never left hers.

_Why does it matter? _She might have found the nerve to ask, had he not betrayed his concern, not in a reluctant or stubborn way, but in a covert, drawn way that seeped from his composure despite him.

Hinata couldn't look at him anymore. She stared at her lap, and managed, "I'm pregnant."

She didn't see Gaara's eyes widen. A stunned expression crossed his face.

But when nothing was said for several seconds, then several more, she quickly lost what little composure she had. Hina covered face with hands, instantly hysterical. "It m-must have h-h-happened right before I got amnesia," she stammered. Gaara's expression had not changed. "I don't know w-what to do, or w-who the father is. I must be a t-total s-s-sl-."

Gaara's stupor broke. She expected him to sweep off, to deny any part in it, but instead a twitch crossed his cheek. "I am the father," he deadpanned, cutting off her ramblings.

Hinata looked up, face tear-streaked. "What?"

"I'm the father." He rested his face against his knuckles

"W-what?"

He impatiently grabbed her shirt. She gasped as she was pulled into his chest. She stayed there, warm, against his heart beat. Slow, steady. She felt him wrap her in his arms.

"You're a month along?" Gaara said.

"Un..."

"Then it was me – _us_. Unless I'm mistaken. It's hard to keep track of all your suitors."

Had he just made a...joke? Hinata's cheeks burned. She was unwilling to look up.

She knew on every fundamental level that it was him. She just couldn't confront him about it when he denied everything else. She didn't know who they were as a married couple. She didn't even know if they loved each other.

He rested his chin atop her head. "It isn't easy."

She agreed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors's Note: **I wasn't gonna post this so soon, but, meh. What the heck. Thanks for the lovely and hilarious reviews.

**The Benefits of Amnesia**

by Bullwinkle's Lady

**Chapter 16**

Kiba's wife worked the night shift in the ANBU interrogation force, so his guests were urged to be _extremely_ quiet. Gathered together in his living room, the three occupied themselves with awkwardly sipping tea.

Kiba's apartment was more...tidy than she would have expected. The living room seemed to be perfectly in order, not a throw cushion an inch out of place. Hinata tried her best not to touch anything. Akamaru was curled up in a corner, looking gigantic and out of place, and whining every now and then in his distaste for the environment.

Her former teammates hadn't changed much. Shino still had shaded eyes and bushy hair, while Kiba was still feral and rugged looking, red tattoos adorning his cheeks. But they were taller, brawnier, their chins bristled, and their voices _off _from how she recalled them being. Both wore formfitting black turtlenecks with insignias on their left shoulders that mirrored hers. It seemed they had all been in it together. She fought on behalf of Suna, and they, Konoha. She wondered if the three of them had ever clashed in their travels.

"When you're young, you do ANBU," Kiba shrugged, noticing her thoughtful look. "Besides," he nodded toward a corridor off from the room.

"You wanted to be...near your wife?" Hinata said, trying to process all the new information.

Kiba nodded as he watched her, a slight frown upon his face. She didn't miss the concern in his eyes.

"And you wanted to be with Sasuke," said Shino, making her eyes widen as images of the Uchiha in his ANBU uniform flashed through her mind. "But, of course, all that changed."

Hinata weakly nodded. "Tell me more about, um-"

They had both been informed of her amnesia. She clung to whatever memories they offered.

"There isn't much to tell. You left at seventeen and never came back. We saw you here and there. You were always – happy." His last word was spoken more as a question, Kiba glancing down. "Sasuke returned to Konoha a few years back. We got word that you and Gaara married, and-"

"What's with all the noise?" a voice snapped.

Hinata, Kiba, and Shino turned to the hall to spot the grown-up Yamanaka Ino, a hand on her hip. She was dressed in a just a bra and panties, with a sheer gown strewn over it, as though Kiba and Shino didn't count as men. Modesty had never been her forte. As Kiba glanced away, Shino adjusted his sunglasses.

"_Can you keep it down?" _said Ino.

Hinata opened and closed her mouth, but her former teammates saw it best not to speak. Ino turned and stalked off.

Kiba cleared his throat. "Let us take you out, Hinata." He spoke now in a whisper. "You always liked Ichiraku-"

Memories continued to assault her. The smell of hot ramen – Naruto's whiskered cheeks – and his overwhelming grin. An older Naruto than she was used to, in his teens...and twenties. Always present, and grinning, and recurrent in her life. He had come to Suna once or twice. To see her. To visit Gaara. _He'd sling his arm around Sasuke's shoulder. Reckon they were good for each other._

"No, I'm – fine," Hinata stammered, abruptly standing. "You must be busy, Kiba. Shino – you must be tired."

They stood with her, protesting her claims, but she managed to back out of the apartment, promising they would get together again soon. Hinata hurried out of the building, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She walked back to the Hyuuga house, taking shortcuts and back routes, as though she'd walked them yesterday. She was more familiar with the outskirts of Konoha than she was with a single floor of the Kazekage tower.

Hinata got to the Hyuuga house and back to her bedroom before she could be unfortunate enough to bump into anyone. It wasn't that she was trying to avoid her family. She just needed time to allow her emotions to catch up with her environment. Just as she tried to close her door, someone caught it. "Who-?"

"It's me." She allowed Gaara entrance. Because he was her husband. He was her husband, so he was allowed in her room.

Gaara closed the door behind him. He had stayed the night at the Hyuuga house. Hanabi had gotten him a guest room. The Kage seemed to have better relations with her family than she did.

"How are Kiba and Shino?" Gaara said impassively.

Hinata blinked, offended by his frankness. "Do you even know them?" she said.

"You always spoke fondly of them."

Hinata trailed to her window, gazing out on Konoha's lush forestry. She didn't want Gaara to see her wet eyes. "I can't believe I abandoned everything for..." she trailed off. "S-Suna."

She'd never meant to hurt him. The room fell silent for a few moments.

Even as she gazed through the window, more memories flooded back to her. The letters she'd exchanged with Kiba and Shino, and secret visits she had made to Konoha. Her blessings on her sister's promotion. Hanabi's obstinate uncertainty.

Things were coming back to her. She saw images of Naruto, Sasuke, Hanabi – everyone. Everyone but Gaara.

"Hinata," he said, and she unconsciously tensed, having forgotten he was behind her. "I have to take you back."

Her eyes widened. She refused to look back at him. "My clan would never allow it." Konoha was where she belonged.

"Your clan doesn't know the position we're in."

She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Hinata-" She didn't hear him approach, but felt him suddenly grab her arm.

"No! You don't even want me!" Hinata spun around, thrusting her hands into his chest. She didn't know when her byakugan had activated, or why Gaara's sand allowed her through its defenses, but he was suddenly thrown against the wall across the room. He grunted in pain and clutched his chest as Hinata stared. She lowered her arms, breathing heavily. Was this who she was now? Angry – aggressive?

Gaara pushed himself off the wall. "It's okay," he said, approaching her despite it. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Her body felt hot, her breathing, thin. "It's okay."

"Alright," she whispered.

Gaara released her. He turned and walked off to leave her alone.

Her breath hitched in her throat. "Where are you going?"

"Lee doesn't live far from here," Gaara responded as he exited the room.

It was as though nothing had happened. Hinata found herself trailing after him, curious of his own connections to Konoha.

Gaara ignored her as he walked out of the house. She remained several yards behind him as he crossed the property. She scrutinized his movements, hoping she hadn't hurt him.

Gaara's stride led them to the woods, and the grunting sounds of someone training.

Hinata impulsively slipped behind a tree as Gaara encountered Rock Lee.

"Gaara!" he said in surprise.

She narrowed her eyes, peering as Lee embraced her husband. The Kage muttered something she couldn't catch, and the Konoha nin suddenly looked past him, catching her eye. Hinata flushed, and guiltily came out from behind the tree. She bowed her head for a lack of words.

"Hinata-san," Lee beamed, waving her over.

Lee was the same, if taller, green jumpsuit and all. Hinata started toward him, but paused when she heard whistles of sound against the air. It was a familiar noise she couldn't place. There was a flash of green and orange.

"Please be careful," Lee warned. "Ming's training around here. She's learning to use the-"

Hinata's world went black as a nunchuck connected with the back of her head.

* * *

_Locked away, in the deepest, most guarded part of her mind was _him.

_She was strewn on his chest, enjoying his lazy heartbeat. Crimson hair hung around his closed eyes. The tattoo on his forehead was stark in contrast to his light skin. Some claimed he was frightening, and others, exotic. She just wanted to trace the markings around his eyes, but her hands slid along his muscled chest, down his waist, when he caught it._

"_You have a mission in the morning," he said, not opening his eyes._

"_So?" She smiled even though she had yet to claim her victory._

"_You should get some rest." His hand released hers, but idly traced her spine._

"_But I'll miss you."_

_He didn't respond, so she kissed his chin. "Gaara."_

_Gaara._

"_Need this." She kissed his neck, the gentle pulse of his jugular._

_She gasped as she was flipped over, her husband suddenly peering down at her. "It's been a while," he conceded. He observed the way her hair was splayed around her. Ghost white eyes were locked on his, her face suddenly blank, lips parted, and that persistent blush... He never understood it. She blushed as though they were sinning every time. It didn't help that it made her more beautiful._

_He felt one of her hands run through her hair. He examined her attire. "Do you like this gown?._

_Hinata blinked. "Why-?"_

_She gasped as he tore through the front of her nightie, exposing her cleavage. "No – stop – be gentle!" Hinata laughed, as Gaara kissed her, and everything went downhill from there._

* * *

Everything was black, but sound seemed to penetrate the void.

Her arms were about someone's neck, her head against their shoulder. She felt Gaara's crisp cape, heard his dry voice – but heavy now, "This is her second head injury in only a few weeks." He exhaled. "She's pregnant."

It wasn't her fault she had gotten hurt. Sometimes things just _happened_.

"I'll do whatever I can," said a woman's voice.

Hinata was lowered to a bed, her fingers manually detached from Gaara's clothes. There was the sound of retreating footsteps, soon followed by a door opening then snapping closed. Hinata clenched her eyes, her migraine dissuading her from opening them.

Her body was then encompassed in an unnatural warmth as healing chakra moved throughout it. It travelled from her head, down her limbs, then to her stomach. Her headache disappeared as the chakra withdrew, and Hinata became cold again. She opened her eyes to slits.

A little girl in a green jumpsuit was leaning over her. She had wide, curious eyes, and buns in her hair, her nose a few scarce inches from the Hyuuga's. Upon seeing Hinata's eyes open, the child grinned and pulled back. "She's alive!" Ming declared, pumping her fist into the air. She gasped as she was grabbed by her father.

Hinata's eyes drifted to Lee. He wore an apologetic smile, his hands resting on his daughter's shoulders, lest she tried to squirm away. Beside Lee and Ming was Tsunade. The Hokage wore a smile, hands on her hips as she expectantly waited for Hinata to attest to her medical prowess.

Hinata propped herself on her elbow. "Where's Gaara?" she asked.

All parties hesitated.

"He stepped out," Tsunade said gently.

Hinata lowered herself. Her half-lidded eyes focused on the ceiling. "Is my baby okay?" she asked wearily.

"The baby is fine," said the Hokage.

Hinata didn't miss the reassuring smile from the corner of her eye.

"Congratulations Hyuuga-san," said Lee, who was only just informed of the news. Every sentence he spoke was like a declaration.

It made Hinata smile despite herself.

"Thank you," she said, sitting up, and ignoring the wave of dizziness that greeted her. "Gaara and I – we're, um..."

_Going to be parents._

"Right," she finished woozily, slapping her fist into her hand. She noticed Lee's confused expression.

"How do you feel?" said Tsunade, touching her forehead.

Like she was in a dream state. Or, as though she had just awoken from one.

Overwhelmed by their scrutiny, she failed to answer the question. Hinata came to realize that Lee and Tsunade's smiles seemed more strained than they had been before. She glanced at Ming and felt her anxiety build, before she climbed out of the bed-

"Hyuuga-san?"

-and aimed herself for the door before exiting into the hallway and closing it behind her. She looked down one side of the corridor, confirming that she was in the hospital. She turned toward the opposite side of the hall and spotted Gaara leaning on a wall. His arms were crossed, and his eyes downcast. He looked almost as uneasy as she did, and was doing a bad job at hiding it.

"I'm all right," she said as she approached him.

_She lay in the grass, blood dampening her hair. She lowered her eyes. It felt good. It felt like night._

Gaara raised his gaze, seeming to scrutinize her. "Good."

But was it? With him, she couldn't determine frustration from irritation. Relief from disappointment. And was that skepticism in his stare? Like he thought her nothing more than a child. His regard of her was declining in turn with her head injuries.

"I have to go home," Hinata said weakly. She began to walk passed him, but Gaara followed.

"We have to talk," he said.

It was about the baby.

"I don't want to talk," she whispered.

Gaara sighed.

With his ultimate defense, he had always been invulnerable to anyone he didn't habitually let through it. Sometimes he wished it extended to her. It was painful to care about something so...fragile. Torturous to watch her break, then _break_.

"I want you to come back to Suna with me," he said as they reached the Hyuuga house. He followed her to her room. He didn't have to fight for many things outside of combat. It wasn't nice to know how easily he could lose. "I-"

"I don't want to hear it," said Hinata, opening her window. "I just-"

Love you. Hate you.

"-want to be alone." She climbed onto the windowsill when Gaara caught her arm.

"I came back for you," he said.

She pulled away from him, but his hold on her arm was replaced by a tendril of sand. A second tendril shot out, catching her around the wrist of her free arm. She grunted in protest as she was dragged away from the window and turned to face Gaara. Her arms were raised above her by the sand leaving her wet cheeks unconcealed. She fixed him with a heated glare.

It was as Gaara observed this glare that he realized, "You remember."

Hinata's eyes widened. "What? No." She bit her lip and scowled at the floor.

His heart raced. "Hinata-"

"Let go of me!" she snapped, causing his focus to waver. As she broke through the sand, she spun, aiming a kick at his chest. It connected with a sand shield, which immediately deteriorated followed the attack. She sent a barrage of palm thrusts at him, to all be met with sand. She paid no mind to her bruising hands or her crumbling composure. She glared upon Gaara's parted lips, his stunned stare.

So what if she _did _remember? What if Ming's strike _had _sent her spiraling back into her full, conscious memory? Did that change the fact that her husband had been ready to discard her?

Breathing heavily, Hinata grabbed the front of his shirt. Gaara allowed himself to be backed into her bedroom wall. She noticed a black cord against his neck, and furrowed her eyebrows, before ripping apart his collar. Against his pectorals was the ring missing from his hand. She scowled upon it, before raising her eyes to Gaara's.

His stunned expression had become a humorless one. Upon his lips was the frown that had seen many others to their graves.

Her eyes returned to his chest, her lids lowering in fatigue. She continued to try to fill her lungs with air, but none of her breaths would seem to suffice.

She missed her husband. She missed her life. She could take it back if she wanted to. Her eyes lingered on his wedding band.

She stood on her toes to meet Gaara's lips, surprising him, but he reciprocated without hesitation. Just before he could deepen the kiss, she lowered her face to his shoulder, then his chest. "Traitor," she mumbled against him, feeling him pull her closer. She held him tightly, breathing him in, never wanting to break that connection.

Gaara's next words were dry; exhausted. "I missed you."


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

With identical deadpans and red-rimmed eyes, Kankuro, Shikamaru, Temari, Kabuto, Matsuri, and a sleepy Sayaka assembled outside of Gaara's bedroom that morning. From one of the guest rooms several topless Narutos also emerged, one who was clad only in a metallic thong. Everyone eyed the Narutos but no one dared say a word.

The blonde noticed the looks, and shrugged. "Being a jinchuuriki makes you kinky."

Oh they had no idea.

Temari rapped twice on Gaara's bedroom door as Kankuro scratched his ass, clad in his cat suit, which, conveniently enough, also served as his pajamas. More looks were exchanged among the party, most of them annoyed. Gaara had put on quite the racket last night. Strange, clanging noises had reverberated throughout the entire floor for hours on end. Not one of them had gotten a wink of sleep that night. What exactly – ("the _fuck") –_ had Gaara been doing in there all evening?

"The nerve of that guy..." Naruto muttered to himself, just as Gaara's door swung open.

A fresh-faced Hyuuga answered it to their collective surprise. Her hair was moist with water, and she was wearing one of Gaara's oversized bathrobes. Shikamaru glanced past her, and immediately covered his daughter's eyes.

Beyond Hinata, the bedroom was a wreck. There was sand everywhere, and all the furniture was in tatters. The naked Kage lay face-down on the floor, unconscious.

"'Morning," Hinata chirped.

"What the hell-?" said Kankuro.

"Oh," Hinata blushed, just realizing the appearance of the bedroom. "Gaara's just – resting."

An air of paranoia hovered over the group.

"Guys – it's _me_," said Hinata.

"Oh," said Temari, before processing this information. _"...Oh."_

"It's good to see...you're back," said Kabuto, as a bit of blood dripped from his nose at the thought of their despicable deeds.

"G-gaara-sama?" said Matsuri.

"Well, see you guys at breakfast. I'm making pancakes," said Hinata, quickly closing the door in their faces.

An hour later, after thoroughly scrubbing their bodies, faces, and eyeballs, the tower's residents gathered in the small kitchen area. The six seats at the circular table were quickly filled, to leave the rest standing around it holding plates and absorbed in good-humored conversation with each other. Naruto – thank the gods – was accompanied by Sakura when he arrived, both who regularly vacationed in Suna under the guise of top secret missions. Hinata was dressed in white shorts and a T-shirt, and busily making a mountain of pancakes with astonishing prompt and expertise.

"I thought you were in Konoha," Temari said.

"I decided to come back," said Hinata. She weakly smiled. "Besides – Kankuro needs me."

At the table, her brother-in-law nodded as he watched her cook, a deranged look on his face.

Gaara impassively made coffee, as though he _hadn't_ nakedly mooned them all only an hour prior. As an afterthought, he added a teabag to his beverage in hopes of disguising it. Then he added a little more coffee.

Hinata lowered a stack of pancakes in front of Kankuro. "And we have news," she said. Her face flushing, she pressed her pointer fingers together.

_She retained a habit,_ Gaara observed. Traits of her young self seemed to have carried over despite her recovery. He took another sip of his coffee.

"We're going to have a baby!" said Hinata.

The room fell into silence.

"But I thought you had amnesia."

"...what the hell."

"_How does he do it! ?"_

Hinata paid no mind to their disbelief. She was lost in her own world, too giddy to even intercept her husband's impending caffeine overdose. She grabbed Gaara's free arm as he lowered his mug, and didn't miss the rare lift of the corner of his lips.

* * *

_Eight Months Later_

"Come, Sayaka, meet your cousin," said Temari, raising her daughter up to Hinata's level.

Sayaka peered at the infant in Hinata's arms before contorting her little blonde face in distaste. The girl clearly didn't like competition.

Hinata raised an eyebrow as Temari lowered Sayaka who wobbled off to find something more entertaining than newborns. The two mothers were seated in the kitchen, Temari sipping coffee as Hinata rocked her sleeping infant.

"Coddling him already, I see," said Temari.

Hinata inwardly smiled. She knew Temari insulted with affection. "Sayaka's getting awfully spoiled," she observed.

"Hmph," said Temari.

Hinata rolled her eyes. Despite her cynicism, Hinata was grateful to have Temari, especially in these past few days.

Her sister-in-law looked pointedly away from her as Hinata stroked her baby's head and sighed. "Gaara still hasn't met this little one."

Gaara had been away for weeks for a summit in the Lightening Country. He'd left Kankuro in charge, and things had gotten awfully queer in Suna. For one, the female ANBU operatives had all become required to wear V-necks and mini-skirts in place of armor. Hinata found it was a convenient time to be on maternity leave.

With the birth of her child – hers and Gaara's – her citizenship was officialized in Suna and annulled in Konoha. Her home was the place of her immediate family, and that was Suna. Now she would be free to travel without the threat of being captured. She could visit Konoha and see her comrades again.

The hardest part of her life at that moment was missing Gaara...not knowing how he was or where he was, with none of his correspondence – if any – ever reaching her hands. Civil tensions were running high, and it was an unreliable time for messenger hawks in the Lightening Country. Hinata wasn't even sure if Gaara had ever gotten word that his child had been born already a week ago.

Hinata went to bed that night, feeling increasingly lonely with each evening she closed her eyes. She reached out to Gaara's side of the bed, her fingers resting on the mattress and wrapping in the sheets. She kept her child's crib with her in the room for the time being. She was still nervy about her newfound parenthood, and found herself constantly checking on the baby to make sure he hadn't spontaneously combusted.

But he was always sleeping peacefully, or just gazing up at her, some of his fingers stuffed into his mouth. He was quiet and content – like his father. Kankuro called him a drool-monster. Kabuto called him low-maintenance. _She _called him _perfect. _A weary smile crossed Hinata's face as she drifted off, thinking of her child.

A few hours later, she stirred. She could tell it was still night time by her body's unwillingness to move. She didn't know what had awoken her. She opened her eyes to slits when she noticed a lamp on across the room.

Hinata abruptly sat up.

She stared at the figure standing over the crib, peering into it, a stunned expression on his own face. Gaara looked exhausted. His clothes were torn, and there were scratches on his cheeks. It didn't take from the way he scrutinized his child.

Hinata's heart pounded. "I want to introduce you to – to-"

"My son."

He'd spoiled the surprise.

"I'm late," said Gaara, finally looking at her.

Her weary smile didn't falter.

He was a week late, to be exact. A whole week of missing out on meeting the baby and learning all the things she already loved about him.

She climbed out of bed, walking toward crib. "I call him Kikai. He – has your hair, and nose, and – he likes this stuffed rabbit. And – let me show you how to hold him, but you have to-"

Gaara kissed her.

He'd acquaint himself with fatherhood later that evening, at 3AM, when Kikai was usually due for a diaper change.

It was just as well.

The End

**Closing Notes: **In all honesty, this is where I always planned for the story to end. I don't see any benefits in dragging it out, as "Hinata has amnesia" is pretty much the entire plot of the story. I could easily write ten filler-chapters of Hinata's everyday life with Gaara after recovering from amnesia, but that wouldn't really be relevant, and their relationship is _already_ developed. I could see the story continuing if Hinata never recovered from the amnesia and had to get used to being married to Gaara again, but that isn't how the story went, or should go. I feel I've thoroughly explored the theme. All good things must come to an end, unfortunately. –is still mourning the loss of Yu Yu Hakusho-

I'm really happy to have finally completed another story. To critique myself, I'd say, Hinata was extraordinarily nervy in this story, even for someone having amnesia. I also feel Gaara became kind of an asshat in the latter half of the story. Overall, I'm pretty happy with the way things came out.

Sorry for the two-year gap between the August 2010 chapter 14 update, and the April 2012 update of chapter 15. I had a series of events occur to me just after the August 2010 update, and I guess this story kind of slipped between the cracks.

Thanks for sticking by me all this time. It was really cool experimenting with this super-random, super-fun pairing.


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